To Forget The Unforgettable
by Queenofthelamas
Summary: Never put in the maze, Ruth was another of WICKED's candidates, possessing a quality the others did not. She was an identical twin- a spare part. Trapped within WICKED's walls, Ruth was forced to watch as it all unfolded. Forced to watch the boy she loved fall apart, unable to help or comfort him. She was the girl that watched and waited. She was the girl he forgot.
1. Prologue

A/N: Hey guys! Couple of things before we get started:

1) There will be spoilers in this fanfic, so read at your own risk. Reading the main trilogy should sort you out, but I do follow the events of Fever Code as well (although not in great depth because I don't want the pacing to be too slow).

2) I've read the books and seen the films. I loved them both _because_ they were so different. In terms of which this fanfic will be following... I'm going to try and take parts from both, but if you've got a preference for certain aspects just let me know!

Disclaimer: Believe it or not, I am not James Dashner, thus I don't own any of the characters or plot, apart from Ruth.

* * *

He could no longer see her.

But her cries still echoed down the hall.

Newt thrashed his limbs, trying to run after her, but the doctors latched onto him, and tightly pinned his arms at his back.

"Newt!" She screeched again.

What had she wanted to tell him? She had looked at him as if her world was being torn apart. The same frightened look that everyone had the day the Flare began. As he tried to fight the grip on his arms, he looked to the line of boys, watching the scene as they waited for their final medical checks.

No one moved.

"Someone bloody help!" Newt's voice cracked, the desperation overcoming the anger.

None of them could meet his eyes, even Minho's were glued to the floor.

How could they just stand by? His heart twisted in his chest. It was because they belonged to WICKED, all of them. What were they supposed to do- defeat WICKED and allow the chaos of the world to continue?

Newt felt the sharp prick of a needle on his neck.

 _No!_ His mind screamed.

He knew what they were doing- where they were sending him. The Maze. It's what all the candidates had been dreading. They also knew there was no avoiding it. He didn't know what challenges had been set, but he knew he would have to face them without her.

She wouldn't be going in with them, with _either_ of the groups.

He had always known that she wouldn't be with him; it hadn't been an issue until he fell for her.

But he thought he had accepted that. The thought of a cure and the life that would bring- no fear of the flare; the thought of seeing _her_ again- those thoughts would spur him on.

After that farewell, however, Newt knew something was very wrong and his mindset had flipped. He could no longer focus on the supposed good of the maze trials. His concern for her overtook everything, and his protectiveness spiked.

 _They wouldn't hurt her_ , he tried to convince himself.

She was WICKED's favourite... but maybe they no longer had a use for her. Maybe her job was done, now that the Maze Trials were about to begin.

The fluid from the needle thrummed through his blood, and quickly his arms grew heavy.

He needed to see her.

He would find her, however long it took. He would get out of that bloody maze and make sure she was safe. Not even WICKED could stop him.

But Newt didn't know.

He didn't know he wouldn't remember her. He would no longer have the memories they shared; not even her face would linger in his mind.

Unable to resist the powerful pull of the sedative, he tumbled into unconsciousness with her name, soon to be forgotten, on the tip of his tongue.


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hi! These next few chapters are going to take place in Fever Code, so we can get a feel for Ruth's character and her relationships with people before the Maze Trials. I'd love to hear what you think, enjoy :)**

 _It was the night she turned ten, that she first saw someone from Group A. His name was Newt..._

Little Ruth, after tossing and turning for hours, gave up on sleep. She shoved the thin blanket aside and peered to the bunk below. It seemed her sister Beth had been successful. Ruth watched her mirror image breathe in and out slowly, dark fringe flopped over her forehead and sheets pulled up to her chin.

Birthdays weren't celebrated at WICKED. Ruth hadn't had a party or even a cake for years now. Everyone accepted this and shrugged off the day as if it was nothing. Beth included. But Ruth had never been able to shake off the bubbling excitement that built up the closer and closer the day got. Which is why Ruth now sat, wide awake, waiting for the small clock on the wall to tick over to midnight.

'11:58' still shone at her and Ruth found herself internally pleading with the clock. As if giving in, the last digit switched to a '9'. Ruth counted down the seconds, the suspense itching away at her mind.

"… ten, nine, ... " She whispered to the empty air. Time dragged as midnight neared. "One." Her eyes burned as she tried to keep them open. She didn't want to miss it.

Finally, the clock switched.

'00:00' it blinked from across the room. A flurry of euphoria exploded in her chest. The ten-year-old beamed, a chorus singing in her head despite the blanket of silence surrounding her. She dropped back, the mattress creaking slightly, and smiled at the ceiling.

The giddiness died away, yet still, Ruth could not sleep. She huffed, twisting over to look at her twin again. Definitely not awake. Ruth paused, dark hair hanging around her as the blood rushed to her head. Would it be such a bad idea to wake her up? Pondering this for a second, Ruth grinned. Of course, it wouldn't. Sitting upright, Ruth swung her legs to the ladder. She quickly pressed her palms against her flushed cheeks, feeling them cool as the blood returned to the rest of her body.

Planting her bare feet onto the concrete floor, Ruth padded towards her sister's head. _How can she be sleeping?_ Ruth wondered- her mind was dancing, she couldn't imagine lying as still as Beth did now. She leaned over the sleeping girl, ready to shake her shoulder.

Before she could, Beth sighed, as if sensing Ruth's plan, and turned over in her sleep. Ruth blinked; her lips pursed. She thought back to the last time she had woken Beth up and crept back to the ladder.

Maybe not such a good idea.

She had placed her hand on the rung when a flicker of movement caught her eye. Glancing over her shoulder, Ruth saw a figure at one of the barrack's small windows. She froze, worried she'd been caught. She hadn't been doing anything wrong, but WICKED staff always found something to punish them for.

She relaxed as she realised the figure belonged to a boy, and he wasn't even watching her. Instead, his eyes were glued to someone in one of the bunks.

 _Perv._ Her eyebrows knotted together, ready to go and bang on the window, that would teach him. However, when she followed his gaze, Ruth noticed who he was watching.

The blonde mop of waves belonged to a girl named Sonya. Which meant the boy must be the brother she talked about so often. Newt.

Unable to resist, Ruth scurried to the window. She had never seen anyone from Group A. WICKED ensured the two groups were entirely separate. As she got closer, she noticed Newt was not the only one there. Behind him stood three boys: one Asian, one with dark skin, and another whose eyes seemed to be soaking in his surroundings in awe. Having reached the window, Ruth tapped against the glass, startling Newt from his daze.

The group behind Newt flinched in surprise, and Ruth spotted there was a girl with them. The dark-haired girl met her gaze coolly, and Ruth couldn't help but feel like she was being analysed by this stranger. Although, it wasn't too hard to work out who she was. Ruth had never seen her before, which meant she had to be one of the 'elite' candidates: Teresa or Rachel. Given that she was standing with those from Group A, she must've been Teresa.

Breaking the unnerving stare, Ruth looked back to Newt and smiled. He nodded sheepishly in greeting. She pointed to the bunk where Sonya lay and motioned back to the window, offering to wake her up.

The confusion faded from Newt's face when he realised what she meant. After hesitating, he smiled sadly and shook his head.

The dark-skinned boy said something to Newt, his voice blocked completely by the window. Newt turned to answer him, shrugging.

Ruth was surprised they hadn't been caught sneaking around yet. Surely WICKED had cameras everywhere? Maybe it's because they were with the 'elites'- everyone knew they got special treatment.

The awestruck boy hadn't budged from Teresa's side and Ruth concluded that he was Thomas. Thomas waved goodbye as Newt and the others trickled off. She raised her hand, returning the gesture. Thomas followed after them, and just like that, they were gone.

Ruth's hand, still hovering in the air, finally dropped to her side.

What a peculiar start to her birthday.

* * *

Ruth hadn't spoken much to Sonya before, and never in a one-to-one conversation. Only in class discussions. But Sonya was happy to talk to anyone, hence everyone knew about Newt. A lot of Group B had had siblings, none however were in the WICKED compound, and most would have been taken by The Flare.

There was Ruth and Beth. But they hadn't been separated. Some envied them, resulting in the twins not being the most popular amongst Group B.

Sonya however, had a brother alive and well, but was being kept from her. People rooted for her. Her tales of her brother reminded them of their own. Sonya was one of the favourites in Group B.

Ruth had wondered why Newt hadn't wanted to speak to Sonya when he'd visited the other day. She would've thought that he'd leap at the chance. Something had stopped him. After pondering this for several days, Ruth had a couple theories.

Firstly, the window. He wouldn't be able to hear nor speak to her. Seeing each other inches apart, separated only by thin glass, and be unable to properly communicate or even hug... it would only make their reality so much harder to bear.

Second, maybe he didn't want to keep showing up and reminding Sonya of her past. It would just make her life harder. WICKED clearly didn't want them near each other, otherwise they wouldn't have separated them in the first place. If Newt pushed it, they'd prevent him from visiting Group B in the middle of the night. He'd rather see his sister, even if she was unaware of him visiting, than not see her at all.

This is why Ruth had been to and fro with her internal debate. Whether or not she should tell Sonya that Newt came to see her. On one hand, the girl would love to know. On the other, it may make her and her brother's lives harder in the long term.

Eventually she settled for getting to know the girl. Then a decision could be made.

Currently, the twins were sitting at a lunch table, only crumbs of bacon still on their plates. Ruth tapped her foot, watching Sonya laugh about something with her friend, Miyoko. She braced herself, but her mind was blank- what was she supposed to say? What did people talk about?

People began to get up, filtering towards the door to head to their first class of the day.

 _Now._ Ruth yelled at her feet, "See you in class." She mumbled to Beth before she shot up, dashing towards Sonya.

"Hey, Sonya." Ruth spoke up, trying to get the girl's attention. The blonde paused the conversation with Miyoko and looked at Ruth. The brief surprise that flashed across her face quickly morphed into a large grin.

"Hi," the grin stayed put, making Ruth feel more at ease, "it's Ruth, isn't it?"

She nodded. "Yeah."

"I'm dreading history, aren't you?" Sonya spoke as if they had always been close. "I get that it's important, The Flare _is_ the reason we're all here, but it's too depressing for first thing in the morning."

Ruth laughed along with her.

When they reached the classroom, Ruth settled into her seat by Beth.

Beth squinted, studying her as she sat down. "Since when are you and Sonya besties?"

" _Besties_ don't exist here," Ruth sighed impatiently, "you know that."

Beth quirked a brow, waiting for an explanation.

"What? It's not a crime to talk to someone." Ruth pointed out, a sharp edge to her tone. Her sister gave her an unconvinced look, before facing the teacher as they started the lesson.

* * *

A month passed, and Ruth found more and more opportunities to talk to Sonya. Every time, Beth observed with the same look in her eyes. She was trying to work out the reason for the shift in Ruth's behaviour. She'd never guess right, though.

All conversations with Sonya had been void of any mention of Newt. At first, Ruth told herself it was because she didn't want to be obvious. But gradually, Ruth realised she just enjoyed the girl's company. And she didn't want to ruin their carefree conversations by bringing her non-immune brother into the mix.

Especially since Newt hadn't shown up once after that night.

She didn't want Sonya to worry that something had happened. There could be plenty of reasons for his absence, but people tended to jump to the worst conclusions.

"Ruth."

The girl glanced up startled. She saw Dr Leavitt- one of WICKED's Psychs. The whole lunch hall was talking in hushed whispers, watching them, and Ruth felt the blood rise to her cheeks.

"Could you come with me please?" Dr Leavitt asked, although Ruth knew it wasn't a request.

Ruth shot a nervous look to her sister, whose eyes were wary and suspicious as she scrutinized Dr Leavitt. Beth's eyes flitted back to Ruth. She gave a small, firm nod, urging her to move.

Swallowing, Ruth scraped her chair back against the concrete, trying to ignore all the stares. She followed Dr Leavitt to the door. Before the room vanished from sight, Ruth met Sonya's gaze- the blonde's eyes wide with confusion.

Dr Leavitt marched down the hallway, not sharing any information. Ruth trotted after him, not asking for any.

Her mind was babbling with questions, and although she couldn't think of anything she had done wrong, dread crept up her throat.

He opened a door on their left, holding it till she passed through. The door clicked shut and Ruth found herself in a small, bare room. The only piece of furniture being a white, circular table. Dr Leavitt moved to sit next to its two occupants.

Chancellor Anderson- the man smiled, though to Ruth it seemed rather patronizing. Seated next to him was a blonde woman that Ruth had seen in passing in the medical rooms, but never learned the name of.

"Ruth," Chancellor Anderson motioned for her to take a seat, "thank you for joining us. This is Dr Paige, and she and Dr Leavitt have told me what a wonderful job you've been doing."

Ruth's lips remained in a thin, straight line. Wonderful job at what? All she did was go to class. It seemed the Chancellor was playing the patronizing-flattery card.

"Not just in your studies, but outside of that." He elaborated, as if reading her mind. "You've helped us a great deal."

"Indeed, you have." Dr Paige spoke, her voice soft and kind. Kinder than any Ruth had encountered at WICKED. "You've been so helpful, we thought we'd reward you."

Ruth couldn't keep the surprise off her face. She wasn't in trouble? Then why the serious face from Dr Leavitt when he collected her?

"But I haven't done anything." She reasoned timidly.

"Quite the opposite. You're doing excellently in your classes, and we've collected so much data from your medical results."

Ruth didn't think she was doing _that_ well in class. Maybe in Critical Thinking; the others not so much. And as for her medical results, that was entirely out of her control.

And yet they wanted to praise her for her genes. A baffling concept to Ruth, but then again, this was WICKED.

"Is Beth going to get a reward too, then?" Ruth perked up. Despite their good intentions, she hated any special attention from WICKED. Good or bad. At least she wouldn't be alone if Beth was in the same boat.

"I'm afraid not." Dr Paige frowned sympathetically. "Your genetic makeup has given us so much data to work from, but it can only help us further if only one of you get this opportunity. Based on your performance in the classroom, we all agreed you deserve this chance the most."

"What opportunity?" Ruth asked warily. If it was only for one person, and it was WICKED offering it, Ruth couldn't help but feel it was going to be under a funny definition of 'reward'.

"We'd like you to play more of a role in WICKED." The Chancellor beamed, as if it was the greatest prize in the world. "You'll have heard of our elite candidates, Thomas, Teresa, Aris and Rachel?"

Ruth gave a small nod.

"Well, we want you to be like them." He continued. "We want you to have a larger part in developing a cure. Because I truly believe you'll speed up the process by _years_. What do you say?"

The words washed over her, gently piling up until they filled her mind. And then it clicked. They were... promoting her? She was going to be an 'elite' candidate. But she was just her. Just Ruth. Between her and Beth, Ruth felt her sister deserved it more. She was the strong one, the resilient one. Ruth just played along.

Maybe that's what WICKED needed though. Someone who would obey. Someone who would be exactly where WICKED wanted them.

Maybe Ruth should have been more scared by their intentions. Their plan to use and manipulate her. But Ruth had seen enough of the world to know life wasn't fair. Fairness was a luxury nobody could afford. Not anymore.

And at ten, being told you can save humanity sounded pretty darn good.

"Yes," she grinned happily, "I'd like that very much."

* * *

When offered her 'promotion', Ruth forgot there would be a catch.

"You know how this works." Dr Leavitt pricked her with the needle. Ruth flinched.

"But I haven't seen her in two weeks!" She barked. The implications of Ruth's new status had been immediate. She had been given her own room. No longer in the Group B barracks. She no longer had classes or lunch with any of her friends. She also hadn't been able to say goodbye to anyone, not even Beth.

"You said you wanted to be like the other elites." Dr Leavitt snapped. "Which means you are treated _the same_. You can't have everything."

The man's patience was non-existent by this point. Ruth had been whining at him every chance she got. Same for any of WICKED's staff that came to see her. None of them got any useful conversation out of her. She refused to do anything productive until they let her see Beth.

 _She'll think somethings happened to me!_ She had argued.

 _We have assured her that you are well._ Was the response she always got.

 _But she won't believe it unless it comes from me!_

 _We have assured her that you are well._ Things quickly got repetitive.

"Can I meet Teresa or Rachel then?" She asked innocently. If she wasn't allowed to see her old friends, the least WICKED could do was let her make new ones.

"I thought you didn't want to leave you room?" He retorted.

That was true. As a form of feeble protest, Ruth had refused to leave. It meant Dr Leavitt took blood samples in her room. Secretly, Ruth knew her strike was having no effect: it made no difference where a blood sample was taken, and if they wanted to carry out more significant tests then they'd easily move her to where she needed to be. Even if she was kicking and screaming.

However, that hadn't been the case so far. So, she kept pretending her stubbornness mattered to anyone.

"Technically, I wouldn't have to leave my room."

Dr Leavitt looked at her blankly, not giving any indication to his thoughts. "One hour." He left the room, saying not a word more.

One hour for what? Ruth tried the door handle, as she did every time someone left. Locked. She kicked the base of the door. One day she'd get lucky, and that handle would turn all the way.

She jumped onto her bed, bouncing up slightly. One hour.

Considering her lack of entertainment, one hour passed faster than expected.

A knock sounded at the door.

"Ruth." Spoke a calm, soothing voice. Ruth's eyes flickered up to see Dr Paige, her hands resting on the shoulders of a girl about Ruth's age. "I'd like you to meet Teresa."

Teresa's long dark hair hung messily around her face. She had a quiet but determined look about her. Not much had changed since Ruth saw her through the barrack window. Teresa paced to the bed, where Ruth was still sat cross-legged, and held her hand out.

"Nice to meet you, Ruth." She looked at her expectantly.

Overly aware of Dr Paige watching them, Ruth grabbed the hand.

"I'll let you two get to know each other." Dr Paige said, swiftly closing the door behind her.

Teresa pulled her hand back, moving to sit in the chair at the desk. "It's not too bad you know." She said, tracing shapes on the armrest.

"I didn't get to say goodbye to my sister."

"They don't do it to be cruel, you know." Teresa explained. "There's always a reason."

"What reason could there be?" Ruth pushed.

Teresa shrugged. "They can't tell us the reason. Otherwise it defeats the point. But it's all to find a cure."

"Are you allowed to speak to people?" Ruth questioned. Hopeful that maybe her life wasn't going to be unbearably bleak.

"I can speak to Thomas." She nodded.

"That's it?" Ruth's eyebrows shot up. "Not even Aris or Rachel?"

"They're part of Group B. They don't mix the groups."

"But I'm Group B." Ruth contradicted.

"Not anymore." Teresa pointed out gently. "I'm sorry you don't get to see your friends anymore, but trust me, your life will be much better once you find out what WICKED's working on. So just do their tests and their training. Then they can fill you in and you can speak to me, and to Thomas, as much as you want."

"There's just one thing I have to know first, and _please_ don't lie to me... when will I see her again?" Ruth asked, referring to her sister. She was fearful of the answer.

Teresa looked straight into Ruth's eyes. "Sooner than you think. I promise."

Ruth knew Teresa wasn't lying.

What she didn't know, however, was that she had asked the wrong question. For, _'_ When will we see _each other_?', had an entirely different answer.


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hey guys, hope you're enjoying it so far :)**

Ruth did as Teresa asked. She complied with WICKED's wishes. They taught her how to programme and use their software. To Ruth's surprise, she excelled at it. It was months before they actually told her what the software was for.

When they told her about the Maze Trials, Ruth had been gobsmacked. The whole thing seemed so elaborate, she was perplexed by how anyone could pull it off. But sure enough, WICKED had everything planned and were confident it would be a success.

She helped build both mazes and so became friends with Aris and Rachel, as well as Thomas and Teresa. She never saw someone from both pairs at the same time, nor was she allowed to mention them to the other pair. WICKED wanted them to stay as separate as possible. Ruth, as well as the WICKED staff, were the only bridge between the Groups.

It turned out Teresa was right. Ruth did see Beth sooner than expected. It wasn't in person, but rather through one of WICKED's many cameras. She knew about the whole of WICKED's computing systems, which meant tapping into camera feeds was a piece of cake.

She'd been working on how to programme the sky for the maze. They were in vast caverns, and the plan was to project hyper-realistic skies onto the ceilings. Aris and Rachel had managed theirs, but for some reason they couldn't get it to work in Group A's maze. This had frustrated Ruth to no end. She spent hours that day trying to solve it. The only way Dr Paige could get her out of the workroom was to give her a tablet where she could continue her progress in her bedroom.

Initially, that had been Ruth's only intention. But when she found herself alone with access to WICKED's database- she couldn't resist. It didn't take too long, WICKED mustn't have cared too much if their cameras were protected by such low security. She found the camera for Group B's barracks and opened it up.

Beth lay, huddled under blankets, on the top bunk of their bed where Ruth used to sleep. She zoomed the camera in and Ruth's heart squeezed as she watched her sister. Her expression was peaceful and calm but that didn't fool Ruth. The girl looked thinner and more tired than when she had seen her last. Ruth noted how tightly her fist clutched the blanket. Over the years, whenever Beth had a bad dream, she never woke up screaming or crying- their mother would get angry claiming she'd wake the Cranks. Instead, her fist would clench, crushing whatever object lay within her grasp. If she did wake up, it would be as quietly as if she woke up naturally in the morning. If Ruth asked what was wrong, Beth would gently assure her that everything was fine and go straight back to sleep. Or at least pretend she did.

Ruth now understood Newt, to some extent. Their world had changed since The Flare. Their current situation couldn't be helped given the circumstances, not if they wanted to find a cure. But even if Newt couldn't be with Sonya, and Ruth couldn't be with Beth... it was short-term. It was the price to pay for a happier life.

However, that didn't mean they weren't allowed to indulge.

Seeing their siblings, even from afar, was one of the few pleasures they had at WICKED.

Thoughts of the boy from Group A, led Ruth to find her way to a different camera. Group A's barracks were identical to Group B's. The only difference, Ruth spotted, was that Group A's barracks had three empty beds.

Her heart leapt in her chest. Where were they? She flicked through dozens of cameras, checking different corridors. Where had they gone? The images blurred together, one bland corridor after the next- WAIT!

She clicked back onto the last camera. There- there was a boy. A small boy, a few years younger than Ruth. He was sobbing, snot pouring from his nose.

Several minutes passed, and the boy remained crying in the corridor. Nobody came to take him away.

Then she noticed something else. The boy looked up, seeing something the camera could not. Then the picture jerked, and suddenly the boy was crying into his arms again.

Ruth smiled. Someone had messed with the cameras. And she had a feeling she knew who.

Erasing her steps and fixing the meddler's mistake by snipping off the end of the loop, Ruth closed the tablet and dashed from her room. It must have been Teresa. She was good at the computer side of things too. And if it weren't for the crying boy, her handiwork would have been seamless. Whoever was about to pass the camera would have done so just after the loop cut off; an empty corridor being all the camera saw. But the crying boy had been there; he had looked up and seen them a moment too early.

She headed straight for Teresa's room, knowing the cameras wouldn't see her if Teresa had indeed altered them. She passed Thomas' door and halted. She thought she heard-

She pressed her ear against the door. Yes, there were voices. Chances are they were all in there: Thomas and Teresa, the trio from Group A, and the sobbing boy. Quickly, she shoved the handle down and slipped inside the room.

Ruth had to slap a hand over her mouth to stop herself laughing. She'd been right. They were all in there. And each of them was frozen like a deer caught in headlights.

"If I was Dr Paige, you'd really be screwed." She bit her lip, trying to contain her smirk.

Thomas's mouth gaped open. "H-how did-"

"I was checking the cameras," Ruth interjected, "there was a tiny slip-up." She glanced at Teresa, the girl's eyes widened with panic. "Don't worry, I cleared it."

Everyone in the room relaxed, letting go of the breath they'd been holding.

"Ruth," Teresa patted the spot next to her on the bed, "glad you could join us."

"Guys, this is Ruth." Thomas introduced. "Ruth, this is Newt, Minho and Alby." He nodded at each one in turn. "And this here is Chuck," Thomas clapped a hand on the small boy's shoulder, "they just brought him in."

That would explain the crying, Ruth thought.

"Pleasure." She tried to be extra cheerful for Chuck's sake.

"I thought WICKED's favourite Group B's were Aris and _Rachel_? Not _Ruth_." Newt looked confused.

"They are." Ruth confirmed.

"Then who exactly are you?" Minho questioned. "Don't tell me WICKED's stupid enough to let Group B near their cameras."

"She's obviously not just any ol' Group B member, you idiot." Alby whacked Minho's arm.

"They've got _more_ elites running about?" Newt piped in. "Bloody fantastic."

Sarcasm. Great.

"I'm not part of Group B actually." Ruth cut in. "I used to be. But now I go solo."

"About a year and a half ago, Ruth got _rewarded_ , as WICKED like to call it." Thomas explained. "They took her from Group B and she's been a sort of middle-man between us, and Aris and Rachel."

"Wait," Newt sat up straighter in the desk chair, "so you used to live in the barracks?"

Ruth sensed where he was going with this. "I did yeah."

"Did you-"

"Know Sonya? A bit." She answered. Newt's eyes widened in surprise. "She talked about you a lot, to anyone that would listen really."

The smile on Newt's face warmed her heart. She'd never seen anyone look so touched, so proud, just _so happy_.

"I saw the lot of you," she pointed to everyone but Chuck, "that time you went to visit the barracks."

Minho slapped his knee. "I knew you looked familiar."

Newt and Alby nodded as they placed her familiar face too.

"I thought that was Beth," Teresa shrugged, "since you never brought it up."

"I didn't know how much of a secret it was, I didn't want to get you into trouble by talking about it." Ruth explained.

"Turned out it wasn't much of a secret." Thomas answered, his eyes fogged over as he remembered something. "WICKED knew everything."

"Do they know what we're doing now?" Chuck's voice trembled slightly. Thomas snapped from his daze, remembering the small boy was there. "'Course not." He reassured.

"Ruth's fixed the cameras." Newt reminded him, ignoring Teresa's scowl as her mistake was brought up again. "There's not a trace of us being here. Right, Ruth?"

She nodded, plastering a smile on her face. She'd suddenly realised something. Teresa had set loops on all the cameras they could possibly pass. The loops cut off just before their endeavours began. But one of the cameras showed the three empty beds. Teresa had missed one.

"Absolutely." She lied.

WICKED knew. WICKED always knew.

* * *

Their little meet-ups became a regular thing. Once a week, Teresa and Ruth would sort out the cameras, ensuring there was nothing to give them away. Then they would gather in the maintenance room in the early hours of the morning. Ruth, Thomas, Teresa, the trio from Group A, and occasionally Chuck.

Ruth really enjoyed it; feeling a part of something. Something that wasn't WICKED related. Hours spent talking about _nothing_ , washing away any thoughts of the wasteland their world had become.

Thomas and Minho were holding their breath, everyone else having already failed the competition. Ruth grinned as Alby tickled Minho, resulting in the boy shuffling backwards frantically as he tried to not to let his breath go. The expression on his face was priceless and there was a whoosh as Thomas exhaled, allowing him to snort loudly at his friend.

"Who's the champion!" Minho raised his fists in triumph. "That's right! Though I doubt it was a surprise to anyone." He smirked, whacking Alby on the back of the head.

"Thomas, I hope you're happy," Newt chided, "you've just lost me tomorrow's bacon."

"I blame Alby." Thomas hollered.

"Hey, I was trying to help!" Alby defended, grinning. "Not my fault you caught the giggles."

"I do _not_ giggle." Thomas' cheeks flushed slightly.

"He's right." Teresa backed him up. "It's definitely a proper pig snort."

Thomas' grateful smile dropped, and the group creased up again.

Ruth saw Newt's eyes flicker to her, as if contemplating something. It wasn't the first time either. Ruth pretended not to notice; she knew he wanted to ask about Sonya and she wasn't going to push him into it. He would ask when the time was right, whether that be when the others weren't around, or when there was a different atmosphere- he probably didn't want to risk turning their fun night into something serious.

"At least you don't laugh like Ruth!" Chuck squeaked. Everyone looked between Ruth and Chuck in confusion. Ruth suddenly found her shoes very interesting.

"Huh?" Newt squinted.

"You haven't noticed?" Chuck asked, bewildered. He grinned at being the only one to have realised. "She hiccups!"

"I do not!" Ruth exclaimed, her blush giving her away.

"I've never heard that." Alby stated.

"Same here." Teresa mumbled in agreement.

"Well when she laughs hard, she does." Chuck filled them in. The other week, when she came to get me, I walked straight into the door and she could hardly breathe."

"I need to hear this." Minho crawled towards her.

"What are you doing?" Ruth scooted backwards.

"Just keep still."

"I'm not even ticklish." She warned, still moving away.

"Just under her ribs." Chuck informed dutifully. "And her neck! Most at her neck!"

"Chuck!" Ruth yelped as Minho pounced on her.

"Newt!" She gasped between laughs. With one hand, she tried to push Minho away, and reached out with the other. "Help-" A loud hiccup sounded, causing everyone to buckle over.

"No can do." He made no effort to hide his snickering.

"Traitors, the lot of-" Another hiccup. Tears poured from her eyes and her stomach began to hurt from all the laughing.

Ruth was happier than she had been in a long time. She only wished that it would last.

Several months later, however, Minho ruined it.

It was just a normal meet-up. Alby had sourced some crisps from who-knows-where; they were all munching away, appreciating the flavour of every bite.

"I've got a new guy coming tonight." Minho said nonchalantly.

Everybody froze, bar Chuck who continued eating, processing what he'd said and wondering whether they'd heard him right.

"Come again?" Alby asked. The only sound in the room was a crunch as Chuck shovelled another handful of crisps into his mouth.

Minho tried to reassure them it was okay for him to have invited someone along. Not at all stupid or dangerous. Their group was already large enough; they couldn't go inviting the whole of the barracks for a slumber party.

"His name is Gally." Minho became suddenly nervous. "And, he's, uh... You remember that plan I told you about? To escape?"

Ruth could practically hear everyone's hearts crashing to the floor. Minho had mentioned this ridiculous idea of his months ago. Ruth thought it had been just that- an _idea_. She should've known that most ideas, once latching hold, very rarely let go. They only grow. It appeared Minho had been trying to turn that idea into reality.

"Yeah, we remember." Alby said firmly. "We also remember the Crank pits, and the beds we have, and the food we get, and the walls that protect us from the insane asylum they call the world. Your point?"

Crank pits? Ruth's brows shot up. She glanced to Teresa. The girl bit her lip and shook her head. Ruth looked at the others, both Minho and Thomas had flinched when Alby said it. Newt looked at the floor in dismay.

What hadn't they told her?

Only Chuck found the phrase foreign and a frightened look passing over his face.

Alby's argument fell deaf on Minho's ears. A thud sounded at the door.

"That'll be him." Minho moved to let Gally in, and the boy slipped into the room.

Minho introduced Gally to the group and they nodded in greeting, smiling politely. Alby asked how they expected to escape; he was obviously unconvinced they'd come up with a plausible plan.

Gally did the odd job for WICKED: landscaping, electrical work, maintenance etc. And it turned out his supervisor wasn't WICKED's smartest employee. Gally had been putting measures in place for weeks, that would allow them to get past WICKED's security.

Ruth scowled, not able to contain the rush of anger she felt.

"And what in the world do you plan to do once you're out in the great Alaskan wilderness?" Teresa couldn't rein in her sarcasm. "Rent a car, go find a nice apartment in Juneau?"

Gally immediately went on the defence, throwing his arms up in the air as he tried to walk out. Minho quickly stopped him, leaping between him and the door.

"Come on, guys. Can you give me the benefit of the doubt, here? Why do you think I've waited months to pull the trigger? Because I'm patient and _not_ stupid."

Ruth grew angrier the more he spoke. Her fist clenched tightly in her lap, nails cutting into her palms. Did Minho even know who was in the room? Newt. His best friend. The boy who wasn't immune. The boy whose only chance of survival was WICKED's success.

Minho seemed more than happy to run away and turn a blind eye to all that.

"Gally's figured out a way to communicate with a cousin in Canada- he's close to the border." Minho continued. "We'll have people waiting for us a few miles into the woods- they're already on standby."

"That's enough!" Ruth snapped. Minho looked to her, shocked by her outburst. "That's enough Minho. Do you even _hear_ yourself?"

"It could work." Gally backed his friend up.

"Of course, it couldn't. You must be really stupid if you ever think that would work. It's WICKED we're talking about. Besides, everything Alby said is right." She snarled, stomping to the door. "And I'm not going to sit here and listen to you try and persuade us to go with you, to abandon this chance we have to find a cure. None of us are that selfish." She disappeared into the corridor, slamming the door behind her.

Ruth hoped Minho would listen to her. It wasn't until the next day that she found out that he hadn't.

One of the security officers knocked on Ruth's door. She trailed behind him to one of the lower floors of WICKED's compound, his words echoing in her head.

 _Someone tried to escape._

Dread in the pit of her stomach, she followed him into a room filled with monitors and screens. There Ruth watched Minho, strapped to a wall. She was helpless as the session began, frozen in her seat with no way to stop it. She saw the terror in Minho's eyes as WICKED set their newly developed creature on him. Its hideous form crept closer, until there was barely a hair's width between them. Ruth held her breath as the creature paused, waiting for its command. She wanted so desperately to clamp her eyes shut, to erase the look of horror on Minho's face from her mind, but she couldn't.

For a moment, everything was still. Then finally, under WICKED's orders, the creature retreated.

Minho's face was etched in her mind- Ruth had never seen anyone so petrified. The officer explained the purpose of the creature was to stimulate fear, which could be used to collect data in the Maze Trials. In Minho's case, they had needed to scare him, so he wouldn't try to escape again. On her way out of the room, she asked the security officer what the creature was called. He gave her a small smile, as if expecting this question.

 _"A griever_ ," he said.

* * *

Ruth didn't meet her friends from Group A for over a year. She needed a break from it. She'd been so caught up in having all that fun, that she forgot why she was there. Minho's escape plan had snapped her out of her blissful illusion. She couldn't even see her own sister. Only a cure would allow them to be reunited. She had to focus on her job.

Teresa understood. She still chose to meet up with the others, but Ruth knew that it was mainly due to her friendship with Thomas.

Ruth did as she was told. She didn't sneak around. She worked solely on the maze. She spent more time with Aris and Rachel, the pair never gave any indication of wanting to leave WICKED.

"It needs to move faster." Aris pointed out, as he and Ruth worked on WICKED's newest feature for the maze: the beetle blade.

They observed the small metal creature as it scurried up and down the maze wall. The false sun shone down, the light glinting off the beetle blade's body.

"It's not too bad when it's moving straight, but it's too slow to turn around." Ruth agreed. "The camera could miss so much in that time."

"Maybe let the camera rotate more?" Aris suggested. "I don't know if we can get the beetle blade itself to turn much faster than it already is."

"Sounds good." Ruth nodded. "We'll let the design team know and then we can finish the improvements on the coding."

They exited the cavern in which the maze was hidden, making their way to one of the offices. Opening the door, they saw blueprints sprawled across one of the tables. Rachel was hunched over, scribbling notes on the diagrams.

"I'm already working on it." She said before Ruth could open her mouth. Rachel glanced up briefly, shrugging. "Aris told me."

Ruth looked between Aris and Rachel, neither offering a further explanation. Ruth sighed. Teresa and Thomas behaved in a similar way. They would communicate, sometimes have whole conversations without even speaking.

Ruth was not part of this. She wasn't too sure how it worked, and nobody cared to explain it to her. She hadn't directly been told that they _could_ do it, but it wasn't hard to figure out for herself.

Aris and Ruth moved to the computers, opening the program for the beetle blades. They ran and re-ran the program, noting the problems and composing a list of what they had to change. The beetle blades not only had to function individually, but as a whole. They had to be synced so that there were never any two beetle blades doing the same job. WICKED needed everything to be as efficient as possible.

She watched the beetle blades scurrying about on the monitor and couldn't help but compare them to the subjects at WICKED.

All the children WICKED had living there, they did as they were told. The ones that didn't, were 'fixed'. They were used to collect data for WICKED, that was their only purpose. WICKED _needed_ them. Without the candidates, a cure was unattainable.

Suddenly a thought struck her. Ruth didn't know how or why the idea came to her, but Newt's face flashed across her mind.

"I don't think we'll get much further today. Finish this tomorrow?" Ruth suggested.

"Thought you were with Group A tomorrow?" Aris clicked on the keypad, closing the program.

"Oh yeah," Ruth shook her head, "the day after then? Unless you manage it yourself of course."

Aris hummed, nodding.

Ruth say goodbye to Aris and Rachel, and swiftly headed to the lift. Arriving at one of the upper floors, the doors slid open. Ruth stepped out of the lift to see just who she'd been looking for.

"Dr Paige." She called. The woman turned. "I was wondering if I might have a word?"

"Of course," she smiled, "let's go to my office."

They strolled along, and despite Dr Paige's calm and friendly demeanour, Ruth couldn't push away the bundle of nerves building in her chest. They reached the office, and Ruth took a seat in front of the polished glass desk.

"Now, what I can I do for you?" The woman asked.

"Well," Ruth hesitated. She might as well try, what was the worst that could happen?

"Go on." Dr Paige waited patiently.

"I've been thinking... I'm presuming I won't be going into the maze?" Ruth asked; Dr Paige nodded. "So, I can't help WICKED in that way, but I'm still not told everything. Which means I can't help in that way either. You wanted my assistance with the development of this cure, but I feel that I'm useless if things are kept from me."

"You're the opposite of useless, I assure you. But," Dr Paige sighed, "you do make a good point."

Ruth tried to hide her surprise. Part of her hadn't expected Dr Paige to actually agree.

"Ruth I'm sure you understand why you can't see your sister? We can't risk you telling her anything about the trials. And the same will go with any further knowledge I tell you. You couldn't tell Thomas, Teresa, Aris or Rachel."

"But I'd still have to see them. If we were to keep working on the maze together." Ruth pointed out.

"You could work on different sections. There's no real need for you to work together."

Ruth's fingers curled in her lap. What was Dr Paige saying? She wasn't allowed to see _anyone_? Why had she thought she could come out of this on top?

"You're saying that, if I want more knowledge on WICKED's work, I need to separate all ties to candidates?" Ruth clarified. She was thirteen, she didn't deserve this. She scolded herself. What an idiotic thought. Nobody deserved any of this. But it was happening, so she had to make the best of it.

"For the most part, yes." Dr Paige nodded. "I'll discuss this with the Chancellor. If he agrees to upgrade your ranking, and give you access to more of our organisation, we will inform you of the terms."

"Thank you." Ruth smiled politely once again.

It was a week before Ruth heard anything. Then one morning, a security officer woke her up and informed her she was required for a meeting with the Chancellor. Ruth dived into some clothes, quickly following the officer to one of the meeting rooms.

A long table filled the room. Chancellor Anderson and Dr Paige were seated next to each other, in the centre of one of the long edges. Taking a deep breath, Ruth strode calmly down the length of the table, taking a seat opposite them.

"Pleasure to see you again, Ruth." The Chancellor smiled, less patronizing than the last time they had met. "How are you today?"

"Very good, thank you." She made an effort to be as polite as possible. "Yourself?"

"Rather excited to be getting someone else on board." He took note of Ruth's expression. "That's right, after assessing how much you've helped us, we decided it would be best if you knew more."

"I presume there will be conditions?" Ruth prompted, wanting everything out in the open.

"Yes," Dr Paige cleared her throat, "I think it's given that you cannot tell any of the other candidates any information we give you from this point."

Dr Paige waited for Ruth to nod before continuing.

Then they told Ruth, told her everything- at least, she thought they had.

They told her that it wouldn't end with the maze trials, two more phases were in place. They told her that the other elites were going to be sent into the mazes as well, although they didn't know it yet.

They also told her that she didn't have to sever friendships with the candidates. She was not allowed to see Beth, it would only make it harder for her. However, the Chancellor told her they would encourage interaction with any of the other candidates. She could give them another perspective on their outlook, and report back.

Ruth didn't see it as spying. She was over the moon: she could have friends _and_ help save humans from extinction.

"You must remember the important purpose of WICKED, and that everything we do is for the sake of humanity," Dr Paige reminded as Ruth got up to leave, "even if it seems unnecessary initially."

"I understand," and Ruth really thought she meant it.

But she was just a child. She thought she was wiser than she was. Unknowingly, she was still playing WICKED's game. One day, she would look back on this moment and wonder…

How could she have been so naive?


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hi! So Ruth's currently thirteen and she'll be fifteen/sixteen when the maze trials start which means we're going to have quite a few Newt moments sneaking in from now on. Hope you're still enjoying it, I love reading your reviews and hearing what you guys think :)**

Ruth strode through the pristine corridors, a nervous pressure building in her chest. She was about to join her group of friends, during one of their midnight meet-ups.

She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen any of them. Apart from Teresa and Thomas of course. She hoped she wouldn't receive the same forced smiles that Gally had received. She didn't want things to be awkward or tense. The last time they had seen her, she had stormed out of the room after Minho and Gally revealed their plans to escape.

The door glared at her, daring her to push on the handle. Counting to three, Ruth took a deep breath and pushed it open.

Alby, Thomas, Teresa and Newt froze as they looked to the door. Ruth paused, waiting for a reaction. Then suddenly, time resumed as they all recognised the familiarity of the situation.

"You've got to stop scaring us like that." Newt smiled, patting the space between him and Thomas.

"I'm sorry we never established a secret knock." Ruth teased, sitting down.

"What reason do we have for this pleasure?" Alby asked.

"Just fancied stopping by," Ruth shrugged, "I figured it had been long enough since I'd seen you guys."

"Good that." Newt passed her a translucent brown bottle.

"What's this?" She asked, eyeing the liquid sloshing inside.

"Alby's resourcefulness continues." Thomas winked.

Taking a swig, Ruth's mouth twisted in a grimace. "That's vile!" She passed the bottle back to Newt, who chuckled at her reaction.

"Where are the other two?" Ruth wondered.

"Chuck's in bed," Thomas answered, a fond smile on his face as he thought of the younger boy, "too tired today."

The room fell quiet.

"And Minho?" Ruth nudged, realising nobody was going to say.

"Minho hasn't been since he came with Gally." Teresa spoke up.

"Oh." Ruth bit her lip, noticing the tense atmosphere in the room.

"He's not been the same since, well... I don't know really." Newt added sadly. "WICKED caught him and did something to him. He won't tell us what, but it must've scared the living daylights out of him."

Ruth glanced to Thomas and Teresa. Teresa purposely did not meet her gaze, but Thomas looked straight at her. Their look was short, but Ruth could tell Thomas was shaken by what he too had been forced to watch.

"He's okay though, right?" Ruth asked Newt, concerned. She knew Minho hadn't been physically harmed by the Griever testing, but she had seen the look in his eyes. Mentally, it wasn't an experience a person could recover from easily.

"He's fine, I suppose." Newt frowned. "He's just not Minho."

"I'm sorry." She regretted bringing it up, she could tell Alby and Newt were still unsettled by it.

"Nothing to be sorry for." Alby reassured her. "We all tried to stop him. But you know Minho, never knows when to listen."

They didn't spend much longer in the maintenance room; the energy had disappeared after that conversation. Teresa headed out the room, followed by Thomas.

Ruth gripped Newt's outreached hand and was pulled to her feet. She dusted the backs of her trousers, vaguely hearing Alby ask Newt something.

"I'll catch up." Newt told him.

Ruth noticed the hesitant expression on Newt's face.

"Something wrong?"

"No, erm-" He grabbed his wrist with his other hand, not liking the awkward way his arms hung heavily at his sides. "I was wondering if you could tell me what you know about Lizzy."

He noticed the blank look on her face. "It doesn't have to be anything big, I know you haven't seen her in about three years. I just miss her you know, and you're the only other one who's met her so I-"

"Newt, stop." She cut him off, realising he was going to continue rambling till he ran out of air. "Of course, I'll tell you." She smiled widely, ignoring the pang in her chest at the realisation three years had passed since her time in Group B. "It just took me a minute to realise who you were talking about."

Newt's tense posture slumped, understanding what she was saying.

"Yeah, you only know her as Sonya. I forgot." He smiled, a lot more relaxed than he was two moments ago.

"So, Lizzy's her real name?" Ruth asked, she didn't think anyone was allowed to use those. She hadn't even heard Sonya say it.

Newt nodded. "When they tried to give me my new name, I didn't want it. But then their methods got more and more extreme and I realised they weren't going to stop. So, I figured, if I couldn't keep my name, and Lizzy couldn't keep hers, the least I could do was remember it for her."

Ruth understood why Sonya- Lizzy- loved her brother so much. Newt was so protective of his sister, even when she wasn't allowed to see her he did everything he could for her. Ruth figured Lizzy was the reason Newt began to sneak out of his barrack in the first place. And he _remembered_ for her. Chances were, Sonya had long forgotten her birth name- Ruth knew _she_ had. Yet Newt kept the old Sonya safe, he kept _Lizzy_ safe.

He made sure the memories of them growing up together, remained forever. Ruth saw the love in Newt's eyes. Their world had fallen apart, and still, he cherished the memory of how it used to be and strove to keep it alive.

"When was the last time you visited the Group B barracks?" Ruth asked softly.

"Not since I saw you actually." Newt's eyes fell to the floor. "We got caught sneaking around, it was months before we met up again. Then Teresa said going to the barracks again was pushing our luck, that this room was our safest bet."

Ruth's lips curled upwards, an idea sparked in her mind. "Come on." She gripped Newt's elbow and tugged him from the room.

"What about the cameras?" Newt murmured, glancing around as Ruth dragged him down the corridor.

"Already sorted." Ruth answered quickly. Really, she hadn't done anything, the only camera work was Teresa's. However, Ruth knew WICKED wouldn't stop them venturing to the Group B barracks. As long as they didn't try and go in, WICKED wouldn't have a problem.

Ruth knew this because she had asked Dr Paige about it. Unsurprisingly, WICKED knew about every time Newt, Alby and Minho had left their beds. In fact, they secretly encouraged it.

Apparently, the thrill and nervousness of doing something you shouldn't, provided lots of stimuli for the body to react to. Which in turn generated lots of data. And WICKED loved data.

Arriving at the barracks, Ruth pulled Newt to the window, the same one she had seen him through years ago.

"See that girl she's sharing a bunk with?" Ruth rested her finger on the glass, pointing to where Lizzy slept. "That's Miyoko. She and Lizzy have been best friends since the beginning."

It felt strange calling the familiar blonde girl by an unfamiliar name, but Ruth knew Newt hated the name WICKED had given her.

"Miyoko found it harder than most of us, adjusting to this new life." Ruth continued, her eyes fogging over as she immersed herself in the memory. "She kept having nightmares, she'd wake up screaming and crying. And every time, Lizzy would be by her side in an instant. She was the only one that could calm Miyoko."

Ruth retracted her hand, dropping it to her side. She turned to Newt, a small smile on her lips.

"Do you want to know how she did it?" She asked.

Newt nodded and waited eagerly.

"She told Miyoko about her brother. She told her that he wasn't immune, but he was alive. That WICKED had him in the compound and that they were taking care of him. She told Miyoko that they had all been saved, that WICKED was going to save them all: immunes and non-immunes alike. WICKED hadn't taken them from their families- The Flare had. What WICKED had done, was rescue them."

Ruth didn't miss the pride swelling in Newt's eyes.

"We all listened to that story, all of us that couldn't sleep for fear of the Cranks in our dreams. Whether it was that first night Lizzy told Miyoko, or on another. Lizzy watched out for us all. She believed in WICKED, would stake her life on it. She made us all believe too."

"So, she's happy?" Newt asked, hopeful. He had spent years wondering whether she was miserable there. The idea tortured him. His little Lizzy, that used to dance around the garden, she didn't deserve to have one dark day.

"She wishes she could see you, of course, but she knows you're safe, and that's all that matters to her. Given the circumstances, she couldn't be happier."

Ruth didn't think she'd ever seen a person smile so brightly.

* * *

Newt and Ruth continued their trips to Group B's barracks. Initially they met once a week, but that soon turned into two, even three times a week. Each time, the pair ventured to the barracks, and Ruth would tell Newt something about what Lizzy was like as 'Sonya'. Gradually, Newt opened up to Ruth about his sister, and their life before WICKED.

He told her about Lizzy's favourite, and only, hiding place in their old house: she would tuck herself behind the curtain by the bookcase. He told Ruth about how, each time he spotted Lizzy's toes poking out beneath the fabric, or heard her muffled giggles, he would search a different room. Not even ten minutes would pass before Lizzy would burst out from her hiding spot, laughing at how silly Newt could be.

He told her that that was Lizzy before The Flare- before she was forced to grow up.

"What about you?" Newt asked.

"Hm?" Ruth snapped from her daze.

"Did you and Beth get on very well?" He asked again. Ruth looked through the window, at the figure bundled up in the blankets who still slept on the top bunk. Newt had asked her a few weeks ago about Beth. The resemblance wasn't hard to miss, even when one of them was sleeping across the room.

"Not as well as you and Lizzy." Ruth answered. "It's different when you're the same age, let alone look the same. You both feel like you're competing, in a way. Who's better at this, who looks better in that, who pulls off the fringe better." Ruth blew upwards sharply, her fringe flopping against her forehead.

"I'd say you." Newt grinned.

"Oh yeah, it was definitely me." She smirked. "Beth just never liked to admit it. Anyway," Ruth cleared her throat, feeling it close, "it's like you said, The Flare changed things. Beth and I weren't at each other's throats anymore. We got closer and became more of a unit."

"Sucks that that was the reason why though."

"Yeah... " Ruth trailed off, watching her sister intently. It didn't feel like that long ago, that she was able to sneak onto Beth's bed and wake her up. Yet here she was, separate. Beth may as well have been miles away.

"Ruth," Newt placed his hand on her arm," I just wanted to say thank you." He confessed. "You didn't have to do any of this, it's risky going against WICKED like this."

Ruth looked back at him, trying to shove away the spike of guilt. She wasn't putting anything at risk. She was doing what WICKED wanted. Newt was being played, not just by WICKED, but by _her_.

"It's nothing, honestly. Anyone would else would do the same if they could." The guilt was building up like a slimy layer on her skin.

"No. They wouldn't. Thomas and Teresa both have access to the cameras, but they don't understand what it's like to have a sister in this bloody place. You've done more for me than _anyone_ here, so thank you. I mean it."

Ruth placed her hand over his. She could tell he wasn't going to give in.

"You are _more_ than welcome, Newt. She spoke softly. The corners of his lips stretched into a grateful smile and Ruth couldn't bear it anymore. She swiftly drew him in for a hug.

 _I am not a bad person._ She chanted in her head. Newt's arms stretched around her back. With a start, Ruth realised this was the first hug she'd had in over three years. It felt good; she held him tighter. Newt must have had the same realisation because neither was in any hurry to separate.

They stood there, for who knows how long, arms wrapped around each other. Ruth clamped her eyelids shut, trying to keep away the tears that were pricking her eyes.

 _I am not a bad person._ These words rolled around in her head for hours, long after she had walked Newt back to his own barracks. She hoped that the more she said them, the more likely she was to believe them. That didn't happen. Instead, the words became alien to her; their meaning lost. They were just syllables sewn together, their soft rhythm tapping away in her mind.

When she woke the next morning, she headed for Group A's maze where she was timetabled to work for the day. The previous evening kept trickling back into her thoughts; she struggled to focus on her current task.

"Manual override isn't necessary though, is it!" Teresa snapped.

"I think it's a useful idea." Thomas pressed. "Ruth?"

"Hm? Oh yeah," she mumbled waving her hand, "better safe than sorry."

"See!" Thomas grinned smugly, receiving an annoyed grunt from Teresa.

Ruth studied the pair of them. They were just people. They weren't _bad_. They were just doing a job.

"Tell you what, you go help out with the Grievers and _we'll_ do this." Thomas suggested to Teresa, trying to hide the way he winced at the word _Griever_. All the elites had been forced to watch Minho with the creature. WICKED only allowed one elite to watch at a time and insisted on watching it live, meaning Minho had to go through the experience _five_ times, so that each elite could watch it for themselves.

Teresa responded with heavy sarcasm before strutting off to the other department.

"Boy, she does not like to lose." Thomas joked before he and Ruth got to work. He had noticed Ruth's absentmindedness but didn't pry. She appreciated that. Thoughts of Newt filled her head; she kept trying to rid herself of guilt.

She wasn't being cruel to Newt. She _did_ want to help him. It was as he said: Ruth knew what it was like to have a sister you weren't allowed to see. Providing WICKED with more data wasn't the only reason she took him to the barracks. A lightbulb flashed in her head- actually, now that she thought about it, it was hardly a reason at all.

WICKED wasn't bothered by how often Newt snuck out to watch his sister, they didn't care if he went once a month or every day of the week, as long as they had data to work from. Newt, however, _was_ bothered. He wanted to see Lizzy as often as possible.

Ruth wanted that to happen, she wanted Newt to be happy. Regardless of his non-immunity, regardless of his 'usefulness' as WICKED put it, she cared about him.

* * *

The door creaked open, revealing a smiling Newt. Ruth felt a happy flutter in her chest.

"Hi." Ruth chirped, moving a piece of hair behind her ear. Her eyes widened as her finger snagged on a matted clump.

"Hey," Newt beamed, oblivious to her embarrassment, "let's go."

Ruth tried to discreetly brush out the knot as they walked, her cheeks flushing.

"Do you have classes on your own?" Newt wondered, still unaware of her flustered state. "I remember Tommy saying he did, but he might have some with Teresa now."

"On my own." Ruth winced as the hair was ripped from her scalp. "I don't mind though, nobody to laugh at you when you get it wrong."

"I suppose." Newt snickered, opening the door separating the Group A and B sections of the compound. "But then there's no one to help you out when you've got no bloody clue what's going on- hey, is your head okay?"

Ruth's froze, her hand resting on her head where it had been massaging the sore spot.

"Ah," she dropped her hand and simpered, "yeah, I just banged my head on the door when I came out."

"You walked into the door?" Newt gave her a toothy grin. "Well it's good to know you elites are the same as the rest of us."

"Why, did you think we were superhuman?" Despite the overwhelming urge, Ruth didn't touch her hair again.

"Tommy doesn't really give that impression," Newt chuckled, "but Teresa sure as hell does. That girl seems like she could defeat an army of cranks single-handed."

"I've seen what she's like behind the scenes and let me tell you," Ruth said, "she could defeat an army of cranks blumin' _blindfolded_."

Newt laughed, and Ruth found her previous embarrassment had vanished. It was just Newt, after all; she didn't know what had come over her. He made Ruth completely content without even trying, there was no need to be self-conscious.

They reached the barrack and glanced through the window. After seeing their siblings sleeping soundly, they perched themselves on the cold floor. From where they sat, all they could see through the high window was a strip of grey ceiling. Even though they couldn't directly see Lizzy and Beth, they were comforted just knowing they were on the other side of the wall.

"If you could go back," Newt began, his tone thoughtful, "if you knew you weren't going to see Beth again, what would you have said before you left?"

Ruth hummed, her mind working. That same question had crossed her thoughts dozens of times. She would imagine saying goodbye to Beth in so many ways.

She would be strong, determined and brave, the way Ruth imagined Beth would be if their roles were switched. She would assure Beth that everything was going to be okay and that WICKED was worth it.

Other times she could see herself breaking down, Beth wiping the tears as they spilled from her eyes. Beth hugging her, comforting her in the way Ruth so desperately missed, giving her the strength to continue on.

Occasionally she entertained the notion, that she could have stayed with Beth. If she had kicked up enough of a fuss, they wouldn't have 'promoted' her. Ruth would still be part of Group B. She would be sleeping on her old bunk, with Beth below. The longing for that scenario, however unlikely it would have been, would begin to gnaw away at Ruth's chest. Each time she caught her mind lingering on the possibility that it _could_ have happened, she quickly shut it from her mind and forced herself to think of something else.

The truth was, regardless of all the things Ruth could have said to Beth that day, none would suffice. There would never be enough words to fill the void that formed when the sisters were separated.

"I don't know," Ruth finally answered, "there would be too much weight on what I said. Even if it isn't the last time I'll see her, I don't want some heartfelt goodbye floating around in her head for years."

"I get that." Newt nodded. He nudged Ruth with his elbow. "And it won't be, you know, the last time we see them."

Ruth gave a soft hum of agreement, but Newt didn't miss the slight frown on her lips.

"I'm not just saying it to make you feel better. I really mean it." A determined look in his eyes. "We'll see them again."

Ruth bit her lip and her fingers began fiddling with the loose thread on her trousers.

"How can you be so sure?" She asked hesitantly.

"WICKED are a bunch of scientists investing _billions_ in this whole thing... they must believe a cure is possible. Surely you of all people must see that, you know what it is they're doing, what they're planning."

"I do," Ruth agreed, "and I believe that it _will_ work. I just can't help but feel," her hands stilled, and she swallowed, "well- guilty. I can't help but feel like I'm stopping so many people from being happy."

She didn't know why she had said that. It wasn't the sort of thing one should admit when WICKED was undoubtedly watching them through the cameras. She didn't want WICKED to stop trusting her, but she needed to confess this to Newt. Newt was her friend, he actually cared about how she was feeling, he wasn't analysing her for data. She wanted him to comfort her. Ruth knew it was selfish- burdening him with her doubts when _he_ was supposed to be the one relying on _her_ to believe in the people they were working for- but it was Newt. He always managed to make her worries fade and she craved the inexplicable happiness he gave her.

"Ruth, you know for an elite you're quite the idiot." Newt teased. "If WICKED were to disband, I'd end up getting the flare. I'd go Crank. I don't want Lizzy to see that. I don't want _any_ of you to see that. Ruth, you're helping save, not just me and the other non-immunes, but the immunes too. The immunes who are hiding from all the Cranks out there in the world, you're giving them their world back."

Ruth's eyes flickered to see Newt reach for her hand, lacing their fingers together.

"Thank you, Ruth."

She caught a glimpse of his face and the sheepish expression on it. His eyes were fixed on the opposite wall, avoiding her gaze. A soft smile curled on Ruth's lips and she glanced away from Newt, enjoying the warmth of his shoulder pressed against hers and the feel of their interwoven hands.


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hi! I'm super sorry for the slow update, with the exam period coming up I've been having a bit of a revision meltdown. So till Summer, future updates won't be very regular but stick with me! I promise it will be worth it ;)**

 **/**

Butterflies. That's what Ruth's mother had called them so long ago. That flurry of excited nervousness in the pit of your stomach. When Ruth had come home from her first day of school, she was a bundle of giddiness. She delightedly exclaimed to her mother she had a boyfriend. In truth, all that had happened was she had made a friend, and the little boy she befriended said that because she was a girl, that made her his girlfriend. Little Ruth, being so young, accepted this 'fact' and that was that. Her mother had looked at her, completely amused, and went along with her daughter's antics. Beth's face had scrunched up in disgust as she asked if Ruth loved him. Ruth said yes because, well, she was four. Then their mother asked if he gave Ruth butterflies.

It was then that Ruth had stopped dancing about the room and asked why he was supposed to give her butterflies. Is that what boyfriends did? Wrap up butterflies and give them as presents? But how did that work; they were awfully hard to catch.

Her mother had laughed and explained that it was a feeling. She described the sensation of butterflies as well as she could to four-year-olds and made it sound completely wonderful and fun. Ruth decided that because the boy made her happy, then yes, he gave her butterflies.

She was so young at the time. She couldn't remember the boy's name or even what he looked like. Her only recollection of the event, was her mother's account of the magical sensation she called butterflies. Ruth couldn't comprehend it; how could a person be _that_ happy? So happy that your stomach did flips and twists without making you feel ill.

Butterflies was a sensation that Ruth didn't think she'd ever understand.

"Ruth are you listening?" A voice snapped.

Ruth blinked out of her daze, to see Dr Paige watching her intently.

"Sorry," she apologised sheepishly, "what were you saying?"

"Are you feeling alright?" Dr Paige queried with concern. "You seem quite out of it today."

"I must be tired," as if on cue, Ruth yawned deeply.

"Perhaps you should cut back on those outings in the night," Dr Paige sighed, "the Group A candidates seem to forget that the elites have more taxing work to do."

"No, no," Ruth sat up straight, trying to shrug the sleep away from her foggy brain, "I'm fine." Dr Paige's lips pressed together, trying not to show her amusement.

"As I was saying, with the Maze Trials getting ever closer, my workload has increased which means that I no longer have time for our meetings."

Ruth tried to hide her surprise and relief. It wasn't that she disliked Dr Paige, rather the opposite, she liked her very much. Dr Paige was by far the kindest and most sympathetic of the staff at WICKED. Nevertheless, Ruth didn't enjoy giving reports on all her friends. Each time she had to give an account of the last time she saw them, retelling every detail she could recall. She didn't understand why, WICKED could easily see all that had happened through their secret cameras. However, she didn't question it; she was allowed to see her friends and she was content with that.

Although, now that she thought about it, if Dr Paige was too busy to hear Ruth's reports, her outings during the night held no purpose. Her relief vanished as she panicked. She really hoped this didn't mean they'd stop her seeing her friends.

"Don't worry, you'll still have them, just not with me." Dr Paige reassured, causing Ruth to stiffen at how eerily she answered her thoughts. "We've assigned someone else to work on this side project with you. They're new to this facility so you'll have to be on your best behaviour and set a good example." Dr Paige winked.

Ruth twisted to see the door as a knock sounded. Dr Paige glided towards it. She greeted the woman waiting in the corridor with her usual polite and professional demeanour.

"Ruth, I would like you to meet Dr Buren." Dr Paige opened the door wider, allowing a woman appearing to be in her early thirties to enter. "Dr Buren, Ruth is one of our top candidates, as I'm sure you've been told. You've got an hour, then you'll have to escort Ruth back to her room afterwards. Good luck." Dr Paige smiled once more before swiftly exiting the room.

The door clicked shut, and Ruth was left alone with Dr Buren. They stared at each other for a moment, Ruth discretely scanning the woman whilst she was almost certainly doing the same to Ruth. She had tanned skin and her dark hair flopped over one shoulder in a loose ponytail.

"You're the favourite, then?" Dr Buren peered at Ruth curiously. Ruth shrugged uncomfortably. Dr Buren nodded, considering this.

"Are you going to sit down?" Ruth asked shyly, noting how Dr Buren wasn't making any move towards the chair.

"If you'd like me too."

Ruth's brow crumpled. It wasn't _her_ choice as to whether they had this meeting, she couldn't stop this WICKED employee from doing their job.

"I'm not going to force my help on you," Dr Buren noticed the bafflement on Ruth's face, "if we're going to do this you can't begrudge me for it."

This was an interesting approach. Most of WICKED's staff either gave Ruth no chance to decline or batted her down the minute she showed any resistance.

Ruth gave a small nod, intrigued by this woman's behaviour. Dr Buren's stiff posture relaxed, and she sauntered to the chair at the desk, sitting opposite Ruth. She began clicking away at the computer, opening some files.

"Like Dr Paige said, the name's Dr Buren. I've just transferred here from a different facility, it's security was compromised." Dr Buren rattled off, not glancing at Ruth. "Favourite colour, green. Best friend, dead. Weakness, to be confirmed." She slid her gaze from the computer screen and winked at Ruth. "Your turn."

Ruth blinked, her brain processing the woman's words. Why was she making small talk? It seemed pointless to Ruth.

"Um, Ruth. Lived here since I was six." She answered, figuring she might as well play along. "Favourite colour," Ruth pursed her lips, she hadn't thought about such a trivial thing for years, "don't have one-"

"That's not a valid answer." Dr Buren interrupted. Ruth frowned.

"But I don't have one."

"Why not?"

"I'm thirteen." Ruth said firmly, perplexed by Dr Buren's persistence.

"And I'm thirty-four, I still have a favourite colour." Dr Buren reasoned. The pair stared at each other, waiting to see who would back down first. Finally, Ruth sighed, able to see the woman wouldn't budge. Her mind flickered through her memories, trying to remember what her favourite colour used to be. WICKED's compound wasn't the most colourful of places, whites and greys covered every room and hallway. As for clothes, dull browns and greens, faded navys and blacks; WICKED provided the minimum comfort required to keep everyone performing their role. Ruth's mind wandered further back than it had in a long time, and she found herself sitting in her childhood bedroom.

Two neatly made beds were covered in vibrant floral sheets. Paintings, created by Ruth and Beth, that consisted of a great multitude of colours were scattered across the blinding purple walls. So many colours. Ruth was astounded by the cheerfulness of it. Had it always been so bright and colourful?

However, as she reminisced over her old house, Ruth discovered none of these colours were her favourite.

Her mind pictured a door, pale and weathered, the paint beginning to crack and peel.

"Blue." She finally answered, a wistful smile on her lips. Her mind wrapping itself around the memory. It was her front door. The door her parents would grumble at when their keys jammed in the lock. The door that would squeak loudly when it opened, before welcoming her into the warmth of her home. She tried to recall the layout of her house, but it was all fuzzy- buried beneath a haze that had been growing since she came to WICKED.

Dr Buren, satisfied with Ruth's answer, cleared her throat.

"Best friend?"

"Can I ask what the point of this is?" Ruth plastered a polite smile on her face, hiding her exasperation.

"It's called getting to know one another," Dr Buren drummed her fingers against the desk, "or we could jump right into analysing your friends if you really want."

Ruth flinched at the spiky tone to her voice and mutely shook her head.

"Good," Dr Buren beamed, "I'm glad you're not too eager. If you were that sort of person, it would've made our time together a little more nauseating."

Considering Dr Buren warily, Ruth did not know what to make of her. She did not strike Ruth as the kind of person WICKED would usually employ. The way she acted was neither forced or stiff, nor did she act as though WICKED was a god-send. Dr Buren acknowledged that WICKED wasn't perfect, that what the organisation did _was_ questionable. She made Ruth feel a little saner.

Ruth relaxed into her chair, figuring that if she was different to all the other doctors at WICKED, it was probably a good thing.

"Best friend," Ruth's mind whizzed through all the faces she knew, immediately latching onto the answer, "Newt."

"Oh, that's Subject A5, the non-immune, right?" Dr Buren's brows scrunched together as her eyes scanned the computer screen. She didn't notice how Ruth winced.

 _Non-immune_.

Hearing it felt like the jab of a blunt knife. Each time, it reminded her that Newt was trapped within this system. He could never make the choice that Minho once made and try to escape. Even if Newt hated WICKED with every fibre of his being, fleeing would only lead to his death.

"Yes," Ruth fidgeted in her seat, "that's him."

"Thought so," Dr Buren nodded, reading something on the screen, "he's the one you've been spending the most time with, visiting his sister?" Ruth hummed in confirmation.

"How would you say he's handling things?" She asked, clicking through files Ruth presumed were on Newt.

"Alright I guess," Ruth shrugged, "he sees the sense in not fighting any of this, so he just gets on with it."

"And what about..." Dr Buren's eyes were fixed intently on something on the screen, "his immunity specifically?"

"He doesn't want to die as much as the next person, but I think he cares more about Li-Sonya," Ruth corrected, "than himself. So, like I said, he gets on with it."

Ruth realised that Dr Buren wasn't listening; she was in a daze, intrigued by something on the screen.

"Ruth, I'm afraid something's come up, we'll have to cut this session short." Dr Buren's voice had shifted to a more formal tone. "Are you alright making your own way back to your room?"

Glancing at a small digital clock on the desk, Ruth found they weren't even halfway through their session. Ruth figured there was no room for complaint, not that she would anyway. She would gladly take the opportunity to leave early.

"Yes, I'll be fine." She swiftly stood up, pacing to the door. Pausing, she looked back over her shoulder to see Dr Buren with a baffled and stressed expression on her face as she stared at the computer. "I never answered your last question," Ruth smiled, trying to alleviate the sudden tension, "I didn't tell you what my weakness is."

Dr Buren tore her eyes from the computer screen and offered Ruth a strained smile.

"I'm afraid that's where you're wrong, Ruth." Dr Buren looked back to the screen. "Shut the door on your way out."

The shutters were down, the conversation was over. Taking the hint, Ruth left the room thoroughly bemused.

/

The months trickled by, and the development of the mazes progressed every day. Ruth sat by Teresa in the control room, they watched Thomas wander through the maze on the beetle blade cameras.

"He sure likes to take his time." Ruth noted, controlling the beetle blade so it followed along behind Thomas.

"World-class dawdler, that one." Teresa sighed as Thomas made no effort to quicken his pace. He strolled through the maze corridors, admiring the colossal stone walls that stretched so high they seemed to touch the clear sky overhead. Ruth had to admit, even knowing the sky was only a projection, it was hard to believe that the vast blue expanse wasn't the real thing.

"He does realise we're waiting for him, right?"

When Teresa didn't answer, Ruth glanced to her side to see the corner of Teresa's lips quirked upwards. She realised Teresa was having one of her telepathic conversations with Thomas.

"I wish you wouldn't do that," Ruth whined, "I'm up for some fun conversations too, you know."

Teresa's smile grew at something Thomas said and Ruth pouted. An idea popped into her head and she grinned slyly. Attention on the beetle blade controls, she made the mechanical legs scurry towards Thomas. It jumped onto his leg, quickly climbing upwards. Thomas screeched, flailing his arms as he tried to bat the creature away. Seeing Thomas' haphazard dance, Ruth and Teresa exploded with laughter. Beginning to hiccup, Ruth's hands fell from the controls and the beetle blade slowed meaning Thomas finally managed to get it off.

"Thomas says thanks." Teresa chuckled. Ruth could easily imagine Thomas saying that with his heavy sarcasm.

"Tell him it was my pleasure." She answered, still sniggering, and wiped a tear from her eye.

"Any more weirdness from Dr Buren?" Teresa asked.

"No, she's been completely normal since then." Ruth had told Teresa about the new doctor she was working with. She hadn't told Teresa what precisely they were doing, only that it was one of WICKED's side projects, and Teresa knew not to pry further than that. The meetings were held about once a fortnight- Dr Buren didn't see the point in holding one every few days when not much would have changed- and Ruth was required to send her an email if anything significant changed between those meetings.

"Maybe she was just overwhelmed by it all, it was her first day remember."

"I suppose." Ruth hummed, unconvinced.

"And she became weird when you mentioned _Newt_?"

"Yes, just in passing. I can't even remember how he came into the conversation."

"Is that so?" Teresa's mouth curled into a smirk. "Does Newt tend to come up in your conversations?"

Ruth's brows knitted as she looked at Teresa confused. Then it clicked.

"Teresa!" Ruth exclaimed, feeling blood rush to her cheeks. "No, I don't like Newt-"

"Who said anything about liking Newt?" She teased.

"You- you know what you were implying." Ruth huffed, gluing her eyes to the camera screen so she didn't have to see Teresa look at her like that. She saw Thomas had just about reached his destination.

"He's at the Griever hatch." Ruth rushed, trying to distract Teresa.

"Good thing I can multitask then." Teresa was silent for a moment as she spoke with Thomas- they needed to create an illusion so that the Griever hatch was invisible. She began to press buttons on the control panel and tap on the keypad. "So, there's nothing going on there, between you and Newt?"

Ruth still refused to make eye contact. "Not a thing! How could there even _be_ a thing, we don't see each other that much really, and even if there _was_ a thing, it'd be a pretty pointless thing because the maze trials are coming up soon and I wouldn't see him for years." Ruth finished her ramble, finally able to take a deep breath.

"A simple yes would have sufficed." Teresa giggled at Ruth's embarrassment.

"Is it terribly obvious?" Ruth groaned into her hands.

"I'm afraid so," Teresa smirked as she continued to tweak the controls, "you get a stupid giddy smile on your face whenever we talk about him. Plus," she lowered her voice, "when we meet up with the others, you keep sneaking glances at each other when you don't think anyone's watching."

Ruth whipped her head up to see Teresa clearly. "What do you mean at _each other_?"

"I mean he's not any better at hiding it than you." Her brows pulled together as she listened to Thomas.

"But Newt doesn't like me like that." Ruth argued, bewildered as to why Teresa would think otherwise.

"Well that's a lie." Teresa huffed, growing frustrated with her Griever hatch task. "You're telling me this is just a one-sided crush? That he's never given any indication of liking you too?"

"He- he's never mentioned anything about it," Ruth disclosed, "we hold hands-"

"That's so adorable!" Teresa gushed.

" _But_ ," Ruth interjected, "that's it. We've never had any of _those_ sorts of conversations, and I'm pretty sure it's just platonic hand holding."

"What does platonic mean?" Teresa asked slowly as she carefully twisted one of the dials on the control board, waiting for Thomas to tell her to stop.

"Just friends." Ruth answered.

"I'm his friend," she pointed out, "he doesn't hold my hand."

"Yeah but he only sees you when Thomas, Chuck and Alby are there too. He doesn't hold my hand in front of them either. Probably because he doesn't want people getting the _wrong_ idea." She gave Teresa a pointed look.

"Yes!" Teresa leapt up from her chair. Ruth saw Thomas grinning on the camera, and she realised they'd finished the task- finally the small hole of the Griever hatch was invisible. "We've only gone and done it!" She held out her hand and Ruth high-fived it.

"How long's that taken?" Ruth wondered. "Two, three months?"

" _Four_." Teresa grimaced. "Four whole months." Her expression lifted. "And now it's over!" She sighed with relief, logging out of the computer. "Come on, enough work for today, let's go celebrate. Oh, and as for Newt, you're a complete idiot."

Teresa skipped from the room before Ruth had time to register what she'd said. Two of WICKED's employee's, sat in the far corner, glanced up after hearing Teresa's exclamation. They seemed rather annoyed to have been disturbed.

"Err... I'm just going to-" Ruth laughed awkwardly, motioning towards the door "yeah..." She quickly ducked from the room, not looking back at their unimpressed expressions.

Her eyes flitted up and down the empty corridor.

"Teresa?" She called, trying not to yell. No answer. "Teresa?" She tried again.

Ruth scurried to the lifts, presuming that's where she went. She caught a glimpse of Teresa's shoe disappearing between the sliding doors as they clanged shut. Ruth pressed the button to call the lift, but it was already headed to one of the upper floors. Frustrated, she kicked the floor with the toe of her shoe and flopped against the wall. Her eyes were tracing the cracks in the paint, when an acute pain pierced her ear.

Instinctively her hand whacked the side of her head and she leapt away, squirming as she felt her ear for what she thought was an insect. However, nothing was there, and after Ruth's initial sigh of relief, she glanced around with embarrassment, to see if anyone had seen. Luckily the corridor was still empty.

Rubbing her still-stinging ear, she stepped into the lift that had pinged open. Without the slightest idea which floor Teresa had gone to, Ruth decided to head back to her room.

She stepped out onto the floor, absentmindedly trailing along the familiar route to her room. It was peculiar, that her life at WICKED had become almost second nature. She didn't think it would have been possible, but it had crept up on her until, just like that, she couldn't imagine a life where WICKED didn't exist.

The stinging in her ear hadn't faded; it had grown to a loud ringing that resonated in her skull. The pain intensified, and Ruth thought she was going to pass out. Her room was only around the corner. So close. She just needed to make it to her bed. Clawing her way along the wall that held her up, she pressed down on her door handle, practically falling into her bedroom.

A blinding flash of pain seared through her head and she felt like her skull was going to crack open. Her knees hit the floor and she rammed her hands against her temples.

Then, when the pain couldn't get any worse, it stopped. The thundering rapids that had been thrashing in her ears ceased, leaving a calm stream of gentle noise as she breathed deeply.

Instantly she worried about what had just happened, fearing the worst. Thomas often fretted about whether he was actually immune. WICKED said he was, but Thomas had always been terrified that WICKED had gotten it wrong- that one day he would suddenly get the Flare and there was nothing he could do but sit back and let his mind descend into madness.

Is that what was happening to her? Had she caught the Flare? Had she never been immune?

 _Ruth_. A voice echoed in her mind and Ruth's heart shot into her throat. She was hearing voices. She was going mad.

 _Ruth, calm down. It's okay._

Ruth's head whipped around the room, trying to spot the source of the noise. But there was none. It was in her head.

 _Ruth. It's Dr Buren. Listen to me, deep breaths, okay?_

Ruth couldn't keep calm, she was beginning to hyperventilate.

 _I would have warned you about this, but I couldn't risk anyone finding out._

Dr Buren's voice urged Ruth to relax but Ruth's mind was working overtime, trying to chase out the extra presence inside her head.

 _Blue. Your favourite colour. I need you to focus on that. Picture the door._

Ruth clamped her eyes shut and tried to obey the voice. She saw the door and for a split second she was calm. She was surprised to see it creak open. On the other side of the door, stood Dr Buren.

Shock shot through Ruth and her eyes flew open. She shook her head rapidly. She was going mad. She was going mad. Sleep. Yes. She needed sleep.

Dr Buren's voice didn't come back as Ruth settled into bed for an early night. There was no way it could have been Dr Buren; Ruth had never told her about the door, just that her favourite colour was blue. Her crazy mind had just chosen to use Dr Buren's voice.

Not wanting to ponder it anymore, Ruth shut her worrying mind up and fell into a fitful sleep.

/

Newt sat in the maintenance room along with Alby and Chuck. They were still waiting for Teresa, Thomas and Ruth. Teresa had somehow slipped a note under Alby's pillow, telling him that she had a surprise for them all. The three of them had placed a bet as to what the surprise was. Alby thought she had raided the kitchens. Chuck believed she had gotten them permission to go outside. Neither Newt nor Alby had the heart to tell him that the first, and only, time they had gone outside had ended spectacularly badly.

Newt predicted it was some news about the maze. Nobody talked about the maze, not in depth, but with the trials growing nearer they must be told something at _some_ point.

At last, the door clicked open and Teresa appeared, pressing her back against the metal to stop it slamming shut. Thomas walked in behind her, his face hidden by the tower of boxes in his arms.

"What is it!" Chuck asked excitedly, already pulling boxes from Thomas' arms. Newt spotted that Ruth hadn't followed behind Thomas.

"I may have taken a little trip to the kitchens." Teresa smiled, catching the boxes that toppled off the pile.

Alby grinned smugly.

"And," Teresa held up a tablet in her other hand, "I managed to track down and download a movie. An absolute pain getting it to work I'll tell you that."

Chuck clapped his hands in delight, already digging into a bag of sweets.

"Where's Ruth?" Newt asked curiously.

Teresa looked at him with a peculiar glint in her eyes. "Dr Buren said she wasn't feeling too well. I went to see her a couple hours ago and she was fast asleep."

"Do you know what was wrong?" Alby was only mildly concerned as he ripped open a bag of popcorn.

"No idea." Teresa shrugged.

"It hardly seems fair for her to miss all this." Newt gestured to the boxes filled with food.

"You could go check on her if you like?" Teresa suggested. "Ask her if she's up for a good old-fashioned movie night."

"Yeah I think I will." Newt got to his feet.

"I'll come with you!" Chuck declared as he scrambled off the floor. Newt was about to accept Chuck's company when Teresa interjected.

"No Chuck!" Teresa caught herself, noticing the strange glances from everyone in the room. She cleared her throat. "I want to talk to you about something." She smiled innocently.

Newt and Chuck exchanged a bewildered look. Chuck nodded to Teresa and sat back down.

"I'll be quick," Newt assured them, "but if I'm not back in twenty minutes just start without me."

The group nodded, although Teresa was the only one properly paying attention as the others rummaged through the boxes.

"Duly noted." She chirped with a mischievous look on her face. Newt shrugged it off, who knew _what_ went on in that girl's head, and left the room.

Teresa watched Newt's back intently and waited until the door shut firmly behind him before turning to the others.

"My friends," she began, "have _I_ got some gossip for you!"

Meanwhile, Newt crept along the corridors towards Ruth's room. He knew it was highly improbable that anyone would be walking around at this time, but it was best to be on alert.

Luckily, he reached the familiar door without incident and knocked lightly. And again. There was no answer. Gently, he cracked the door open and peered inside.

The narrow beam of light from the doorway stretched across the room, allowing Newt to see Ruth squinting tiredly against the light. Her hair was frizzy where it had been leaning against the pillow and her fringe had no clue where it was supposed to be lying. The word 'cute' flashed across Newt's mind. His heart thudded, and his lips automatically stretched into a smile.

"Newt?" She rubbed at her eyes and suddenly he felt bad.

"Sorry," he quickly stepped inside so he could shut the door and keep the light off her face, "I didn't mean to wake you." He spoke to the sudden darkness, no longer able to see her.

"No, it's fine," she insisted, and Newt could picture her hair flopping about as she shook her head rapidly, "what's up?" Newt heard her pat the bed and he stumbled towards the sound.

"I was just-" Ruth gave a soft hiss as Newt stood on her foot, "Sorry, sorry," he rambled. He felt Ruth's hands on his arms as she guided him to the bed, "ah... thanks." he rubbed at his neck, glad for the dark that hid his crimson cheeks.

Ruth giggled, and Newt's heart thudded again. Stupid laugh. Stupid, adorable laugh.

"You were saying?" Normally, Ruth would feel utterly self-conscious; she knew her hair must be an absolute mess, but in this instance, she didn't care. It wasn't the dark- seeing Newt looking about confused as he willed his eyes to adjust- it was the pounding in her chest. She couldn't bring herself to worry about anything else.

A terrifying thought crossed her mind and she hurriedly wiped the corner of her mouth. Her body sighed with relief. No drool.

"Yeah, um, Teresa said you weren't feeling well and I wanted to see if you were okay." He admitted. It could have been a completely innocent confession, but Newt felt like those words combined with the flush on his cheeks made it too obvious. He may as well write it across all the walls.

"I had an awful headache earlier, but I'm absolutely fine now." She reassured him happily. "Hang on," she paused, "how did Teresa know I wasn't well?"

"One of the doctor's told her."

"Which one?" Ruth asked quickly.

"Doctor..." Newt didn't understand why Ruth was so interested in who it was, but he still found himself trying very hard to answer her question, wishing he'd paid more attention to Teresa, "Doctor Buh... Buh... Boo? No-"

"Buren?" Ruth whispered cautiously, as if afraid of the answer.

"Yeah, that was it." Newt could just make out Ruth's wide eyes as she stared at the empty air. "Something wrong?"

The warmth of Newt's hand on her knee snapped Ruth from her daze. Her eyes whipped to his face and, seeing the concern there, a smile tugged at her lips.

"No," she answered, unable to control the smile, "everything's good." All worries about Dr Buren vanished from her mind and all she could think about was Newt.

" _Just_ good?" Newt joked, Ruth's smile was infectious, and he found himself beaming along with her. "That won't do, what would Teresa say?"

"I feel a bit bad," Ruth confessed, "she wanted to celebrate something earlier and I ended up going to bed instead."

"She was probably just wanting to set everything up for tonight. She's got a film for us to watch."

"Really?" Ruth's eyebrows arched. How had Teresa managed to get a hold of one without WICKED confiscating her things? Newt nodded.

"They wanted me to get you, see if you were up for joining us." Ruth watched as he removed his hand from her knee and she fought the urge to grab it.

Fought very poorly.

She reached out with her hand, towards his that lay on the bed sheet. As their fingers wove together, some feeling shot up from her chest to the muscles in her cheeks, making her want to smile wider.

"Which movie is it?" She wondered, trying to distract herself from the euphoria that something as simple as holding his hand gave her.

"Not the slightest clue." Newt smirked at her expression.

"Sounds thrilling." She bit her lip trying to hold in her laugh. She didn't want to shatter the soft mood of their conversation.

"Doesn't it?"

Neither of them made any effort to get up. They sat there, staring at each other in the dim light. Newt became nervous. Should he- should he _tell_ her how he felt? He thought he'd insinuated that he liked her months ago when he first held her hand, but nothing happened. He'd wondered if that was her way of telling him he was just a friend to her. Which is why he hadn't made any further attempts to mention any of his feelings for her.

But he couldn't help but notice things. Like the smile she had when he held her hand, the giddy sort. Or when _she_ reached for his, like she had just then- she would look distant for a split second and furrow her brow, as if psyching herself up to do something, and then she would grasp his hand and her expression would become- a cross between pride and shyness.

What if he had it wrong though? His brain screamed at him with all the logic and evidence, but the slight niggling doubt stopped him from doing anything. Every time a moment came when he _could_ tell her how he felt, the doubt swooped in and he stayed silent.

Maybe it was the dark, how there was nothing around them, and even their faces weren't perfectly clear. It created a dream-like atmosphere; even if Ruth didn't feel the same, it wouldn't matter as long as she _knew_ how he felt.

When Ruth realised that Newt was leaning in, her brain went into overdrive. She tried to swallow the bundle of nerves that were climbing her throat. Her breathing grew shallow and she found herself leaning in too. The silence thudded in her ears and the suspense was going to crush her. His dim silhouette vanished as her eyes fluttered shut.

When their lips met, it was like a spark had been lit. A wave of euphoria washed over Ruth's body. She tried to pinpoint what it felt like; she realised there was only one way to describe it.

Wings.

Hundreds upon on hundreds of butterfly wings. Flying frantically about with so much energy, trying to lift her off the ground; causing whirlwinds of emotions inside her, dancing around her heart and making her feel so _good_.

Butterflies was a sensation that Ruth didn't think she'd ever understand.

Newt changed that.

Overflowing with rapture, she smiled against Newt's lips.

 **/**

 **A/N: Hopefully the Maze Trials will start in the next chapter, so see you then!**


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hi guys! First of all, I'm going to apologise for not uploading in over two months! The draft for this chapter was finished about a month ago but I never got a chance to edit it till now, so sorry about that. The next chapter's also written and just needs editing so that will be up within a week.**

 **Side note: If you're one of those people that like to listen to some dramatic/emotional tunes whilst reading to aid the Newt feels, I'll stick a list of some of my favourites on my profile :)**

* * *

It was the door again.

Ruth's arm instinctively reached up to push against the weathered paint. A large creak echoed along the hallway behind it. She stepped over the threshold, her shoes tapping on the wooden floor.

"Ruth." A voice said as the door slammed shut, startling Ruth.

She whipped around to see Dr Buren standing there cautiously, as if trying not to scare away an animal.

"Don't wake up. Not yet." Dr Buren said carefully. "I need to talk to you first."

Ruth's eyes narrowed. Why did she keep having this dream?

"About what?"

"WICKED." Dr Buren motioned to an armchair; they were suddenly in a quaint living room with soft sunlight filtering through the windows. Ruth didn't move.

"What about WICKED?"

The dream always went like this, and each time Dr Buren would respond with, "what they don't want you to know."

"You _are_ WICKED, you're part of it!" Ruth argued, shaking her head frantically. If this was some mind game, another of WICKED's tests, she wouldn't play along. WICKED's work already consumed her days, it would _not_ trespass into her nights. This was a dream. A dream that her head loathed; whenever she had it, her mind screamed that everything was _wrong_. It wanted to escape.

"Ruth," Dr Buren pressed her hands onto the girl's shoulders, "this is real, this conversation is real. I know it doesn't feel right but you have to fight the feeling."

Ruth's head started to pound as Dr Buren spoke, the words echoing in her head as they began to warp and distort. Her surroundings faded, as did Dr Buren's pleas.

Ruth inhaled sharply as her eyes snapped open.

Her room was still. No sound but her shallow breathing filled the air. Pulling herself together, Ruth checked the clock on her nightstand. She groaned. It was only four o'clock. Three hours till she was allowed to leave the room and start her day. It would be futile to try and get back to sleep; it was always the same after that dream.

Since the dreams began, Ruth had seen Dr Buren in person a few times. However, the woman had made no hint or reference towards them, and Ruth wasn't going to bring the matter up. She didn't want anyone to think she was going mad. Nobody knew she had the recurring dreams although Newt, being Newt, had realised something wasn't quite right. All she told him was that she was having trouble sleeping. He'd sensed there was more to it and reminded her that she could tell him anything. Ruth had assured him everything was fine and Newt, being Newt, didn't push her.

She trusted him. Completely. If she could, she would have told him absolutely everything. But in their world, it was better to be cautious. It was safer that way. When she worked out what was going on with the dreams, then she would talk to him.

Ruth rolled over, grinning into her pillow as she pictured Newt's concerned face. How was it possible to be so darn adorable?

Months since their first kiss, Newt still gave Ruth unfathomable butterflies. The only downside to being so impossibly happy, was the daunting prospect of the Maze Trials. The mere notion sent a pang through her chest. Five years. Five whole years of being apart. She didn't know exactly how far away the trials were, but she guessed about a year.

They'd be fifteen when they said goodbye, and twenty when they said hello again. An impossible length of time; Ruth couldn't imagine it.

Every day she helped build the place he would live for those years. It was an odd feeling: all these years he and the other candidates had been kept in the dark, and then all of a sudden, they'd be dropped right in the middle of the secret. Would he begrudge her for it? Being locked in the maze for all that time and knowing she helped put him there. Ruth hoped Newt wouldn't turn against her. She clung to the idea of Newt being impossibly understanding as he so often was.

But everyone had their breaking point.

Eventually, she slipped out from under the bed sheets, deciding to kill some time getting ready. She stepped into her tiny bathroom. The cramped room offered no space to walk about, only a small square in which to rotate. Flicking the light switch, she squinted against the sudden brightness. She grimaced at her reflection; at her untidy hair and tired circles under her eyes. With a sigh, she turned on the shower and watched as steam filled the air. Ruth turned back to the mirror, scrutinising herself.

She didn't look like a mad person. Exhausted and drained, yes, but not mad. Not crank-mad. The dreams were just dreams. Nothing suspicious or odd about them. Just dreams. She glimpsed the unconvinced look on her own face. _Just dreams,_ she told herself firmly. Her reflection stared back in disbelief as the glass gradually clouded over.

As if things were ever that simple when you worked for WICKED.

* * *

Six months later, Ruth found herself in a meeting. Of course, it wasn't the first meeting she'd been to, but this one was different. She could tell by the sheer amount of people who were present. Packed around the edges of the long table, were nearly thirty WICKED personnel. Most of whom Ruth didn't know the names of but had seen their faces around the compound. She spotted Dr Buren further down the table who seemed to be the only person not making idle chit-chat as she stared absentmindedly at her hands.

Ruth sat with Aris and Rachel, murmuring amongst themselves before the meeting started. Thomas and Teresa entered the room, Ruth flashed them a smile as they took the spare seats opposite her. She noticed their curious gazes as their eyes flickered over Aris and Rachel, and she didn't doubt Aris and Rachel were doing the same. Sometimes Ruth forgot that her two pairs of friends, whom she had seen almost every day for the past five years or so, had never actually met each other. Thomas smiled at them while Teresa nodded politely.

Someone cleared their throat and the room fell silent, everyone's attention turned to Chancellor Anderson who sat at the head of the table. He welcomed everyone and grinned as he congratulated the elites on their hard work. His words seemed to blur together after a point- the gist was that it had been ten years since WICKED began and good progress was being made. Chancellor Anderson estimated it would take at most four months before the Maze Trials began.

Ruth's stomach dropped. Four months. That was so close. She met Thomas's gaze and her chest twanged at the empathy she saw there. Thomas would also miss their friends from Group A. Neither Aris nor Rachel had befriended anyone from Group B, and whilst Teresa did like Newt and the others, she was much more able to focus on the importance of their mission. Ruth and Thomas however, they knew how much their friends would be missed. The next five years would pass mind-numbingly slow.

Nevertheless, there was no way around it. They'd just have to take it day by day. On the bright side, they knew their friends would be safe in the maze. WICKED may be unsympathetic with their industrious way of doing things, but they weren't cruel. They would keep the candidates safe in the Maze Trials.

The next day, Ruth bounded along the corridors. She halted at each corner as she waited impatiently for Mr Ramirez (part of WICKED's security), Thomas, and Teresa to catch up. There had been one shining gem of information in yesterday's meeting. Chancellor Anderson revealed elites were to be integrated with their respective groups. Initially this brought up the issue of where Ruth would go. Since she'd been removed from Group B, Ruth had been considered as the only candidate separate from both groups.

Fortunately for Ruth, WICKED still wanted her to be integrated, and so they had decided she would go with Group A. They had given very little reasoning for this. Ruth had two theories: it was simply a replacement for the midnight meetings, and it would be far more effective for her to collect information; secondly, WICKED did not want her coming into contact with Beth, not after they'd been kept apart for so long. Ruth couldn't fathom why they weren't allowed to see each other. If she ever mentioned it to one of the doctors, they would spew the nonsense they'd been told to recite. About how everything was for a reason, or how she would become emotionally compromised and it would make her job harder.

Ruth had given up hoping WICKED would ever give her a straight answer to anything. Besides, it's not like she was disappointed to be put with Group A.

Quite the opposite.

Ramirez escorted them through the compound and swung the desired door open. With a hop in her step, Ruth entered the cafeteria, filled with all the Group A candidates. Thomas and Teresa self-consciously shuffled in behind her and silence drowned the room as the boys noticed the new arrivals.

"Listen up," Ramirez ordered, "many of you have heard of Thomas, Teresa and Ruth- they've been considered elites for years."

Ruth nearly rolled her eyes. That was really going to help them fit in. Teresa, her cheeks flushed, was mortified by the 'social death-sentence' he was bestowing on them.

"-be nice to them, they've worked really hard," Ramirez continued. "The Maze Trials are starting soon-"

Ruth stopped listening to his tedious speech to scan the room for familiar faces. Her heartbeat spiked as she spotted a smiling Newt. Ruth beamed, her cheeks hurting.

"-in the meantime, take the time to get to know them, prepare yourselves mentally and physically, and let yourselves get excited for the fun changes ahead. Now, back to your meals."

Ruth didn't even glance to watch Ramirez leave. Her legs were already dashing across the room before the door slammed shut. Newt stood up just as she crashed into his arms.

"Finally, some good news 'round here," Ruth peered over Newt's shoulder to see Alby grinning at her, she pulled away and Alby clapped her on the shoulder, "now I can get a full night's sleep."

"Are you really sticking with us all the time, then?" Newt asked as Thomas and Teresa reached them, "just like that?"

"I mean-" Ruth stumbled as Chuck bulldozed into her, squeezing his arms around her waist, "we'll still sleep in our own rooms, but other than that, yeah." She exhaled deeply as Chuck detached himself before doing the same to Thomas. "I guess WICKED wanted to mix things up a bit before the maze." Smiling softly, she slotted her hand into Newt's, his fingers automatically weaving with her own.

"Well I've got no complaints." Newt squeezed her hand, they were undoubtedly getting curious glances from the others in the room, but neither of them cared. Glancing up, they saw Thomas had moved to another table. When Ruth saw who he was speaking to, she was hit by a mixture of emotions. Minho.

She hadn't seen him since she watched the griever scare-tactic. Even now, Ruth thought Minho was selfish for trying to escape. Newt was one of his best friends and Minho was going to leave him. Here. With WICKED. Yes, he had offered for others to go with him, but Newt _couldn't_ \- he was safe from the Flare here, not out there. Regardless, Minho had decided to leave.

Despite this, Ruth felt immense pity for the boy. He must have truly been terrified to feel that fleeing WICKED was the only option. The consequence of his attempt only terrified him further. Nobody should ever have had to endure that: strapped to a wall as a mechanical demon crawled towards you. It was the harshest WICKED had ever been and Ruth still questioned what possessed them to do _that_ to a scared _boy_.

Which led to the feeling that overrode the anger and the pity.

The guilt.

Ruth, Thomas and Teresa all knew what WICKED had done to Minho and they were keeping that secret from the others. Not even Minho knew that they knew. Yet they still worked for WICKED. Each and every day they helped them- the people that were capable of doing something so vile.

Ruth considered Teresa who, from her wary expression, must have felt the same. Alby and Chuck had already gone to sit with Thomas and Minho. Teresa fidgeted for a few seconds, before she sighed and her tense posture drifted away. She swept after the others, perching herself on the chair next to Thomas.

"What's wrong?" Newt asked, noticing how she wasn't budging.

"The last time Minho and I saw each other, I got a _little_ bit angry at him," Ruth mumbled to Newt.

"And made quite the dramatic exit if I remember correctly," Newt winked, nudging her lightly, "I wouldn't worry about it, Minho isn't one to hold a grudge… especially not over _that_ whole incident."

"Okay," Ruth said, making her mind up. She towed Newt to the table with a cheery smile on her face. "Hey, Minho."

The boy looked up from his conversation with Thomas and returned the gesture. "Well, well," he waved at her and Newt's hands which were still locked together, "I have to say I did not see that coming."

As Minho continued to both tease her about Newt, and embarrass Newt as much as possible, Ruth easily settled into the conversation. It was almost as it used to be. This light-hearted joking. There was one difference, one thing hanging over them.

Minho was still broken; his toothy grin wasn't as bright or infectious as it used to be. The grievers truly had scarred him.

What if WICKED did this again? What if they did this to people during the Maze Trials?

Panic flashed through Ruth as a terrible thought struck her.

What if the Maze broke Newt?

* * *

Another dream. Ruth's mind struggled to pull away as it realised where it was. The pale blue door opened by itself and Ruth felt her limbs forced through the doorway.

She halted in surprise.

This was different.

Normally she would step into a quiet and cosy-looking home. This time, she was in one of WICKED's many hallways. Peering down one of the long stretches, she spied someone walking away. The familiar dark hair tied loosely over one shoulder caused Ruth to call out.

"Dr Buren?"

The clicking of the woman's shoes didn't falter. She turned a corner and disappeared from sight. Ruth chased after her, her bare feet smacking the cold floor. She reached the junction that Dr Buren had turned down but she was nowhere to be seen. Ruth continued to run, aimlessly and without pause.

There was no sign of life. Not even a whisper or whirring of machinery. Just Ruth. Lost in an endless maze. She stopped, panting as she surveyed her surroundings. Then, one by one, the lights went out.

Ruth had never feared the dark, but this darkness was eerie and sinister. It crept closer with each pop of a light bulb. Chunk by chunk of hallway drowned in the pitch black.

Ruth ran.

Until the dark surrounded her.

She had just skidded around a corner to see the far end of the hallway was already hidden by the blackness. It was trying to trap her.

Heart thudding, Ruth tried to wake herself up. She pinched her hand, her wrist, her cheek; nothing worked.

Still the dark grew closer.

Panic bubbled inside her and she frantically punched the wall. Ruth hissed at the sharp pain. Why couldn't she wake up?

Just as tears pricked her eyes, she heard something click. A door, a few paces to her left, quietly glided open. Ruth didn't question where the door had come from- this was a dream after all- and dashed through it.

A bang sounded as she flung the door shut behind her. Body trembling, Ruth wanted to cry. She was trapped in a nightmare. One filled with terrifying suspense. She would much rather have dreamt about a crank she could see, instead of being chased by the unknown.

Scanning the room, Ruth's interest was piqued. The contrast between the rest of WICKED's compound was evident. Whilst WICKED opted for sleek and modern, this room radiated old and outdated. Under the dim, flickering lights, Ruth could see it was filled with file cabinets. Each of which was full to the brim of paperwork. Actual, physical paperwork. Not like the digital copies WICKED used now.

There was a computer, with a monitor twice the thickness of that Ruth was used to, wedged on a small desk between two of the cabinets. Something compelled her move towards it, some strange feeling that the computer held vital information. Vital for what, she didn't know. After all, this was only a dream, there was no way the object before her could hold any actual significance. Yet she still couldn't resist following that gut feeling.

Sat in front of the screen, she waited as it whirred to life. Her body seemed to move on its own as her hand slid the mouse along the desk, clicking through the files purposefully- like she knew what to look for.

The longer she searched, the more her head started to pound. Ruth felt like her mind was torn in two, one part clinging to the dream whilst the other fought to wake up.

Before she could find whatever it was she was seeking, the latter won out.

She opened her eyes to the darkness of her bedroom.

Immediately, the headache ebbed away, and she lay there as her heart's erratic rhythm gradually slowed. She rubbed at her eyes, worry clawing at her chest.

Telling someone about these dreams would be the smart thing to do- the right thing to do- but Ruth couldn't bring herself to. The very thought of disclosing this information to someone filled her with dread, regardless of who that person was. As if a presence in her head was urging her to keep her mouth shut.

* * *

Slouched by the window to the Group B barrack, were Ruth and Newt. This was a position they often found themselves in during the nights; Newt's arm resting lazily across her shoulder, and Ruth curled into his side clutching his other hand as they merely enjoyed the presence of the other.

"I don't suppose you know what this surprise of Tommy's is?" Newt spoke as he played with the ends of her hair, breaking the quiet they'd been enveloped in.

"No idea," Ruth replied, lifting her head from Newt's shoulder, "I tried to get it out of both him and Teresa, but neither would budge. It's unbearably frustrating."

"You don't like surprises?" Newt asked, clearly amused, the corner of his mouth curling.

"Hate them." Ruth scowled, "I don't like not knowing things."

"Well," Newt tried to ease her mind, "Thomas has promised me that we'll definitely both like it."

"Of course he's going to _say_ that." She huffed.

"You've got to admit, it must be pretty good if he's stopped himself from telling us anything for nearly two months." Newt chuckled, "The poor bloke's bursting at the seams."

"True," Ruth hummed, "though I think it's more out of fear of Teresa throttling him to death for ruining all their hard work."

"Oh yeah," Newt nodded several times in firm agreement, "definitely. Which means it _must_ be good if Teresa's gone so far out of her way to make it happen."

"I'm sure I could enjoy it just as much if I knew what it was." She argued half-heartedly.

"Where's the fun in that? Besides," Newt nudged her, "you've lasted this long, what's one more day?"

Ruth grumbled under her breath and Newt laughed.

"Tommy's really going to have to watch himself if he keeps winding both you and Teresa up. He's got it tougher than any of us in the maze."

Ruth sobered up at the mention of the maze, the word slicing through her body like ice and she looked down at their interwoven fingers. She kicked herself for not being able to laugh at his innocent joke, but she couldn't help it. Thomas would be going in the maze; as would Teresa, only they hadn't been told yet. She _wished_ those in the maze would have the easy, carefree time that many of the candidates joked about despite knowing the falseness of it. Only they didn't know just how wrong they were. Ruth grasped that even she didn't know entirely, but she did have a better idea than any of the others.

She knew about the grievers and she dreaded to think about their use in the maze.

She'd been reporting the behaviour of her friends to WICKED, showing how WICKED took _every_ opportunity to analyse and collect more data. Everything was a part of their game and paranoia had become a constant presence in Ruth's mind.

"I wish you'd tell me what was wrong." Newt said, noticing the shift in her demeanour.

Ruth's gaze moved from their clasped hands, to Newt's worried face. She bit the corner of her mouth and shrugged as her eyes fixed themselves to the floor.

Newt had noticed Ruth's increasing distress over the past months, as much as she tried to hide it. He wished she would talk to him, then he could help. It was all he wanted if it meant she'd be happy again. He hated seeing her upset.

"Ruth," he squeezed her hand, "please."

Her heart twanged at his plea. He wasn't going to let it go anytime soon, and it hurt to hear him so desperate.

"I'm scared," she admitted shyly. Newt didn't say a word. He waited patiently for her to get whatever it was off her chest.

Of the two things that were bothering Ruth so much, she could only disclose one; she'd sworn to keep her bizarre dreams a secret.

"The-" she swallowed away the panic clawing at her throat, "the Maze Trials are only a month away, and then you're gone. I won't be able to see you. For five years."

"You will be able to see me." Newt reassured with a smile, "you can watch all the stupid things I'll inevitably do."

"It's not the same," Ruth withdrew her hand, her eyes pricking, "don't pretend like it is. We won't be able to talk, and _you_ won't see me at all for that whole time. Doesn't that bother you?"

"Hey, hey," Newt calmed her raising voice with his soothing one, "of course it does. I bloody hate it. But it's not like we can do anything about it. Besides, five years is nothing," he pressed his finger to her chin and pointed her face towards his, " _nothing_ , Ruth. Not when we'll have the rest of our lives after they get their damn cure."

Her bottom lip quivered and Newt bowed his head, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. Her eyes shut as her whole body relaxed against him. She tried to commit it to memory, the delicate touch of his mouth and the inexplicable way it made her forget that she had any troubles at all. How could anyone feel less than content when Newt was there. This impossible boy who managed to maintain reason and hope and sanity as if it cost him nothing. He was calm and steady amidst the storm that ravaged the world. He had every reason to be scared, him most of all, but he clung to the scarce positives as if they were his oxygen. He held himself above the dark depths of terror one could easily fall into during these times and would go to any lengths to make sure none of his friends fell either.

When he pulled away, he searched Ruth's eyes to see if she was still worried.

"I swear to you, Ruth," he whispered reassuringly, "it's not the end, not for us."

 _This boy._

She smiled, a true genuine smile that Newt had brought out of her with such ease.

 _This utterly selfless boy._

Newt returned the grin, making Ruth's heart flutter.

 _How she loved him for it._


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hey guys, I can confirm the Maze Trials will begin in the next chapter. Hope you enjoy!**

Bouncing on her heels, Ruth glanced at her watch. 11:06 flashed at her, just as it had the past three times she had checked it.

At last, the two boys rounded the corner and Ruth's impatient scowl vanished as excitement flooded through her.

"You okay there Ruth?" Thomas asked with mock concern, "Didn't keep you waiting too long, did we?"

"You little crank!" She exclaimed quietly with a slap to Thomas' arm. "I think I've waited long enough, there's no need to torture me further."

"But it's way too much fun," he flashed a sly grin, "is this a good time to mention that Newt knows the secret too?"

Instantly, Ruth's eyes widened as the shock of Thomas's words hit her. Then her jaw clenched, and eyes narrowed as she turned to the quiet boy who was now trying to avoid eye contact.

"Newt," she said warningly.

"I only found out on the way here, I didn't think he'd actually tell me!" His hands flew into the air in surrender.

"How come he gets to know!" Ruth whirled her attention back to Thomas.

"He doesn't get frustrated by secrets," Thomas shrugged, "it's no fun."

"Now you've got to tell me." She crossed her arms.

"Nope." Thomas said simply before walking down the corridor.

"You have to!" Ruth marched after him.

"Don't think I do."

"Newt!" Ruth whined.

"Sorry," Newt mumbled as he scratched the back of his head, "he made me swear."

"Unbelievable." She sighed.

"You'll find out in a few minutes anyway," Thomas reminded her, "hang on just a _little_ longer." He said with a wink.

Ruth felt Newt's hand brush hers and she pulled it out of reach. Newt pouted.

"Tell me what the surprise is." She tried to keep a straight face.

Newt's pout grew.

Damn that boy.

His face brightened as Ruth slipped her hand into his.

"Shut up." She grumbled, trying to fight the smile wanting to climb its way onto her lips.

They trailed after Thomas, who was rather focused on where they were going. His face kept shifting into different expressions and Ruth quickly realised he was talking to Teresa. She must have been erasing their footsteps and making sure they could get to wherever it was they were going undetected.

Arriving at a door marked 'Research and Development', Thomas tried the handle. To Ruth's surprise, it clicked open. Thomas crept into the dark room, waiting for his friends to follow. Ruth hesitated. She eyed the darkness, wondering why he'd taken them there. Seeing WICKED's bizarre projects that they kept hidden, even from the elites, was not her idea of a fun surprise.

Newt tugged at her hand and she peered at him, her worry glaringly obvious. He looked at her with complete reassurance and as she searched his eyes she saw a promise; everything was going to be okay.

Biting the inside of her cheek, Ruth swallowed away the trepidation clawing at her throat and stepped into the room. When the door closed, all Ruth could see were various coloured lights blinking throughout the room. Swiftly her eyes adjusted, and she could see all the equipment and machines. Sharp blades glinted in the dim light and Ruth felt Newt's grip on her hand tighten.

Thomas's steps faltered before he swerved to get a closer look at one of the glass containers. It glowed bright green and thick fog bellowed from it, spilling onto the floor. Behind the swirling fog, Ruth could make out something within the tank.

Thomas leaned closer, drawn to the hypnotic glow.

"Tommy, we probably shouldn't mess with this," Newt said glancing up from the tank, "looks bloody radioactive to me. We could wake up with three extra fingers and one less eye in the morning."

Ruth watched as Thomas half smiled at Newt's comment, barely listening.

"Thomas?" Ruth tried, but Thomas still didn't move.

Abruptly, the mass within the container jerked, bumping against the glass. The three of them jumped, and Ruth's heart shot into her throat. Before the object disappeared into the fog again, they managed to get a glimpse at it.

Tan-coloured with vein-like lines running through it, they stiffened as their brains made the connection.

It looked eerily like an arm.

Now it was Ruth's eyes that were glued to the tank.

An arm.

Why did WICKED have an _arm_?

"Why are we still standing here?" Newt asked.

"Good question."

As Thomas finally moved, another object pressed against the glass. This time it was a torso, covered in slimy mucus.

"Oh my god," Ruth pressed a hand over her mouth.

"It has… things growing out of its skin." Horrified, Newt pointed at the large masses protruding from the flesh.

Ruth wanted to yank Thomas back, but instead she was frozen as he stepped closer to wipe the condensation off the glass.

Eventually, he moved away, rubbing at his eyes.

"What…" he began, still dumbstruck, "in the world… is that?"

"Do we really want to know?" Ruth asked.

"Fair point." Thomas nodded, "let's go."

No one spoke as Thomas led them to a security tunnel, the experiment they had stumbled across still playing on their minds.

The grievers had been bad enough, Ruth dreaded to think what this new project was.

Thomas halted at a particular section of wall.

"This the one?" Newt gazed up at the wall and a mixture of emotions crossed over his eyes.

"Yeah," Thomas breathed, "this is it."

"This is what?" Ruth wondered, trying to rouse herself from her numb state.

"I think you'll recognise it." Thomas answered with a grin as he pushed against the wall. A large panel popped open and Ruth peered into the dark to see a small closet with a door cracked open on the far side. Familiarity washed over her as she stepped inside and caught sight of what was through the crack.

It was the Group B barrack.

She was _in_ the Group B barrack.

With a rush of exhilaration, Ruth leapt for the door, confused as a pair of hands latched onto each of her arms. Her feet almost left the floor as she was yanked back. She spun to face Newt and Thomas.

"We can't have you making a scene," Thomas explained before Ruth could snap at him, "you'll wake them all up."

Ruth realised he was right and her body slumped, dropping her arms to her sides. They all shuffled to the door, each of them peering through the crack into the large barrack room. Bunkbeds lined the walls and Ruth was already scanning them for Beth. Just as she spotted an empty bed, a figure appeared in front of them.

Thomas seemed to get the biggest fright, stumbling backwards from the door. The girl joined them in the closest, appearing defensive and ready to interrogate the trespassers.

"What do you want?" she whispered fiercely. "Who are you?"

"Miyoko," Ruth said, matching the voice to a name, "it's me, Ruth."

Miyoko's head whipped towards the voice, squinting through the dark as she tried to make out her face.

"Ruth?" Surprise filtering through into her tone. "What on earth are you doing here?"

"We're here so Ruth and Newt can say goodbye to their sisters," Thomas answered, having recovered, "before the Maze Trials start."

Ruth's heart squeezed as the situation sunk in- this had been Thomas's gift to them. The one he had been planning for weeks. He didn't have any siblings of his own, but he understood how much Beth and Lizzy meant to her and Newt, and he had managed to find the one thing he could do to help.

"You could've given us a warning, before creeping in like kidnappers." Miyoko scolded. "What's your name then?" She looked to Thomas.

"I'm Thomas." He replied, still slightly scared by the girl.

"Oh." She said apathetically, recognising the name. She glanced to Ruth. "So, it's true, then? You joined the _elites_?" Her nose scrunched in contempt as she said the word.

"Yes," Ruth nodded self-consciously.

"We thought you were dead." She said harshly. Ruth's eyes widened. "They told us you'd been awarded the _honour_ of becoming an elite, but when do WICKED ever tell us the truth." Miyoko shrugged. "Plus, none of us could picture you just upping and leaving Beth. It wasn't till Rachel and Aris joined us that we found out that you _had_ in fact upped and left."

Guilt stabbed Ruth's chest.

Beth had thought she was dead; the notion that Ruth could ever choose to leave her, seeming impossible. But Ruth _had_ chosen. No, she hadn't been told that becoming an elite would mean she wouldn't see Beth again, but she should have _known_. The elites had always been kept separate from their groups, how could Ruth think it would be any different for her. Too stupid to resist the praise, too excited by the prospect of saving the human race, she hadn't paused to _think_.

"I-" Ruth began, hoping she could find some words, _any_ words, to remove the look of disapproval from Miyoko's face.

"So, you're Newt?" Miyoko perked up as she held out her hand. Newt shook it, slightly surprised by her shift in mood. "It's great to finally meet you, Sonya's told me all about you. She's my best friend."

Newt smiled politely through the tense atmosphere, his eyes flickering worriedly to Ruth.

"I'll go get her." With that, Miyoko slipped back into the barrack room.

Ruth glanced to Newt and Thomas, their dim silhouettes watching her sadly.

"Dead." She choked out, "nearly five years, and she thought I was dead."

"That's not your fault, Ruth," Thomas argued, "that's these other girls getting in her head."

"Doesn't change what happened." Ruth's whisper cracked.

"You're going to see her now." Newt placed his hands on her shoulders, looking her straight in the eye. "You can explain, and I know Beth will forgive you a million times over."

Ruth was unconvinced, but Newt seemed so sure. Biting the corner of her mouth, she gave a small nod.

Newt's head darted to the door as a blur crashed into him. Newt and Lizzy hugged tightly, stumbling back as Newt tried to stay upright from the force she hit him with.

Nerves fluttering in her chest, Ruth turned to see Beth.

Only she wasn't there.

Miyoko nudged Thomas away from the door so she could close it. She pressed a switch and a bright bulb eradicated the darkness of the closet. Miyoko noticed Ruth watching her with sad, confused eyes.

"She's not here," Miyoko answered unsympathetically, "WICKED kept her for some overnight tests."

"Of course they did." Ruth mumbled under her breath.

"You couldn't have told us earlier?" Thomas questioned, not appreciating the girl's indifference. "Before you went off acting like you were going to bring both of them here."

Miyoko didn't bother responding. They all turned to watch Newt and Lizzy. The pair were crying, tears streaming and sobbing into the other's neck. Ruth's heart ached as she gazed at them. Siblings reunited after _years_. Even if it were just for a couple hours, Ruth could tell it was entirely worth it. Thomas had known it would be. She looked to Thomas, surprised to see him watching her, eyes filled with guilt.

"I'm sorry Ruth," he apologised, "if I'd known, I would've changed the night we did this or-"

"It's fine Thomas," she grasped his hand, squeezing it in reassurance, "there's no way you could've known. I appreciate it all the same, and I know Newt and Lizzy do too. Thank you, Thomas, really."

Thomas offered a small smile and they released their hands, turning to Newt and Lizzy.

"I hate them," Newt exclaimed between his sniffles, with a ferocity Ruth hadn't witnessed from him before. He pulled back, wiping his cheeks. "I hate every one of them! How can they do this? How can they steal us from our homes and keep us separate like this? It's not right!"

Ruth's chest panged as she observed them with a realisation. This wasn't the result of getting around WICKED's rules. This wasn't the sliver of light that had slipped past the organisation. This was yet another part of their twisted variables.

"No, no, no," Lizzy said, soothing her brother. She pressed her hands to Newt's cheeks, getting him to look at her. "Don't say that, you're looking at it all wrong. We've got it better than ninety-nine percent of kids out there. They _saved_ us, big brother. What are the odds we'd be alive if they'd left us out there?" She tugged Newt into another hug.

Ruth felt sick and claustrophobic. WICKED had _allowed_ them to get here tonight. _Allowed_ Newt to see Lizzy one last time before the Maze trials. They had _not_ allowed Ruth and Beth to see each other. Even if Thomas had switched the night, WICKED would have made sure Beth wasn't there when they arrived.

As always, WICKED was in control.

Ruth snapped from her daze with a start, to see Lizzy standing in front of her. Before Ruth could say anything, Lizzy wrapped her arms around her, tucking her head under Ruth's chin. Startled, Ruth glanced down at the blonde head.

"I'm sorry," Lizzy whispered against her, "about Beth. I know she would've loved to see you."

Slowly, Ruth's limp arms raised and latched around Lizzy's back. She hid her face in Lizzy's hair, trying to stop herself from crying as she mumbled incoherent apologies. Lizzy only made soft 'shh' sounds as she stroked Ruth's back. Ruth couldn't fathom how it was possible to feel so comforted by a girl she hadn't spoken to in nearly five years.

"Would you like me to tell her anything?" Lizzy finally asked, pulling back to peer at Ruth's face. With a caring, understanding glint in Lizzy's eyes, she reminded Ruth so much of her brother. The resemblance between the siblings wasn't immediately obvious appearance wise, but their soft natures were so similar it was hard not to notice.

"Tell her-" Ruth began, wracking her brain. It wasn't that she didn't know what to say. On the contrary, she had _too much_ to say. She couldn't, however, expect Lizzy to remember a long speech, so she would have to condense years' worth of apologies and explanations into a few sentences. The image of Beth curled up in Ruth's top bunk flashed through her mind. "Tell her to stop stealing my covers," her lips quirked up. That would get Beth's attention. Her tone shifted into one more serious and solid. "I never left her, not for one moment. I _won't_ leave her, _not_ during the Maze Trials, _not ever_."

Silence followed Ruth's words. Everyone lost in the depth of raw emotion they unveiled. For one long instant, they all imagined a world where such determination could triumph. Where the ferocity of one's sheer will could defeat WICKED, along with all its madness.

"Beth's very lucky." Lizzy said at last, clipping everyone from their dazes.

"So are you," Ruth replied, glancing at Newt. He met her eyes, a mixture of emotions swirling within his own.

Lizzy buried her face against Ruth's chest, this time Ruth's arms enveloped the girl instantly and she heard a whisper, inaudible to the others.

"Take care of him for me?" Lizzy pleaded quietly.

"Even if it kills me." Ruth promised.

* * *

Ten days before the Maze Trials began, Ruth was sat in yet another tedious meeting. However, the minute Chancellor Anderson opened his mouth, Ruth knew something was very different.

There was a crank on the loose.

Initially, Ruth didn't understand half of what was being said- something about Crank Pits. She'd never heard them mentioned previously, nor had Aris and Rachel based on the shock on their faces. Thomas and Teresa, however, their expressions darkened as they were reminded of whatever their past experiences were with the Crank Pits.

One of the Cranks had disappeared from the Pits. WICKED, with all its surveillance, couldn't track down one frenzied infected.

This was months ago, and now WICKED feared they had an outbreak within the compound.

Which meant Chancellor Anderson had become a lot more time-conscious. Nobody could afford to wait five years for results. Hence the Maze Trials would be shortened, from five years, to two.

Ruth's heart thumped.

Two years.

Glee had shot through her. It took a lot of effort to pretend she was still listening.

She vaguely heard mentioned the need for more intense variables, along with the certainty of a Phase Two and Three, but her mind was too busy dancing at the dash of good news.

 _Two years._

Only two years without seeing Beth, without seeing Newt.

As for the outbreak, Newt would be safe. WICKED would increase their security until the problem was solved. Newt would be tucked away safely in the Maze while all this went on, and when he emerged in two years, it would have been dealt with.

When Chancellor Anderson ended the meeting, Ruth was the first out her seat. Slicing through the air as she fled the room, she dashed purposefully down the corridors.

She couldn't believe her luck. They'd be in the Maze for less than _half_ the intended time.

Ruth tumbled into the Group A barrack. About a dozen boys were mulling around between classes and Ruth spied Newt sprawled across one of the lower bunks.

"Newt!" She exclaimed loudly. Caught by surprise, Newt bolted upright and looked about in concern. He saw the grin stretched across her face and relaxed somewhat, intrigue replacing the confusion.

She grabbed his arm, heaving him to his feet. "Come on!"

"What is it?" He asked, glancing around the room. Most of the boys paid them no mind, having grown used to Ruth's presence. Minho took one look at Newt's baffled expression and snorted, quickly returning to his conversation with Winston.

"Just shut up and come on!" She hauled him from the room, out of view. Abruptly, she spun around. Leaping into his arms, she tightly wrapped her arms and legs around his torso.

"Ruth?" He tucked his hands under her legs.

"They've shortened the Maze Trials," Ruth pulled back, beaming so widely it hurt her cheeks, "you're only going to be in there for two years!"

The words slammed into his ears, and then Newt felt his chest explode.

He yanked her to him, their lips crashing together. He moved forward until her back pressed against the wall, her erratic heartbeat reaching out to him. A smile tugged at his lips and he leaned back, searching her eyes. Then suddenly, he was lost. Lost in the cool greys that swirled in their impossible depths and lost in the deep navy that spilled from their dark rims. That moment, with their eyes locked together, stretched out to the point where the passing of time was marked only by their slowing breath. Their eyes exchanged more words than speaking ever could, fixing a deeper understanding between them. Newt admired the girl before him. Ruth, in all her brilliance. He was in awe at how, amongst the mess the world had plunged into, he had found her.

Two years. They could do it. He really believed they could get through this.

Newt pressed his forehead against hers, breaking their gaze as their eyes fluttered shut.

 _They could get through this._

With the light touch of their lips, sparks danced across Newt's skin. Newt paused, not moving any nearer. For one long moment, they were impossibly still, basking in the electricity that filled the air. Then Newt felt Ruth's hand curl around the back of his neck, tugging him closer.

 _This girl._

He bridged the gap.

 _This utterly magnificent girl._

Behind his closed eyelids, he found himself surrounded by her- her familiar scent, the softness of her lips, the way her hands rested in his hair.

 _How he loved her._

* * *

Ruth should have known her relief wouldn't last. Delight quickly wore off as the day of Insertion grew nearer. On the morning of the dreaded day, Ruth sat with Chuck, Thomas and Teresa for breakfast. A few others were scattered about the cafeteria, but it was largely vacant. The first batch of candidates to enter the maze had been woken up hours beforehand, to undergo a series of final medical tests.

The four of them would go and say one final goodbye after they'd finished breakfast. Each of them trying to avoid the inevitable as they nibbled slowly at their food, unwilling to accept that the day was finally here.

Chuck's fork clattered to his plate, food hardly touched. The other three at the table raised their brows quizzically.

"I can't keep pretending to eat." He huffed, getting up from the table. "I'm gonna head over."

Thomas, glancing at Teresa, signalled for Ruth to follow him.

"Chuck, wait!" Ruth called, trotting after him. "I'll come with you."

Chuck nodded before looking to Thomas and Teresa curiously.

"You go ahead," Thomas told them, "we'll catch up."

Ruth and Chuck both noticed the glossy shine in Teresa's eyes, and decided to leave them to it.

Strolling towards where the medical tests would be taking place, Ruth realised she was, what one would call, a nervous babbler.

"-it'll be okay y'know, they'll have much more fun in there than we will out here," she kept glancing at Chuck, hoping she'd see at least a flicker of a smile.

No luck yet.

"Even Minho will love it," Ruth didn't believe what she was saying, it was a futile attempt to comfort herself and the boy next to her, "and I bet you he'll do super well. His ego will probably grow ten times the size." Ruth's grin faltered at Chuck's deadpan expression, his watery eyes fixed on the floor.

"You've probably got the best deal out of everyone," she tried, and luckily Chuck's head snapped up, "yeah because when the Maze Trials are over, I'm going to have to share the reunion with Thomas _and_ Teresa, _and_ WICKED will be there so it won't be much of a reunion anyway. You, however, you get one all to yourself _and_ you get to experience the Maze too, which I'm a little jealous of by the wa-"

Ruth halted, seeing Chuck had paused two or three steps behind her. He was staring down one of the corridors that branched off.

"Chuck?" She moved closer, peering around the corner, wondering what he was looking at. Ruth froze.

There was a figure walking away from them, familiar dark hair tied loosely over one shoulder.

"Dr Buren." She gasped quietly.

Pummelled by deja vu, Ruth suddenly felt very dizzy. It was the dream. But she wasn't dreaming. She couldn't be dreaming.

Chuck snapped out of his daze, shaking his head. "Sorry, what were you saying?"

Ruth glanced at him, barely considering why Dr Buren had caught his attention. Turning back along the corridor, she saw Dr Buren was nearly out of sight.

Ruth couldn't resist. She _had_ to know what was going on.

"Chuck, I'll meet you there okay?" She didn't wait for an answer, strutting speedily after Dr Buren.

She could hear the echo of the woman's shoes, and Ruth peered down at her own. In the dream she'd be barefoot. More evidence that she wasn't dreaming. Then how could this situation be so similar?

Ruth reached the junction Dr Buren had turned off, only to see she'd vanished. Lucid thoughts intact, Ruth deduced that Dr Buren could have easily gone into one of the rooms. Trying each of them wasn't going to get her anywhere though. This wasn't how the dream ended, and she wanted to see what would happen if it played out correctly.

She continued down the corridor, retracing the steps that she'd take whenever she had this dream. This part of the compound was quiet, everyone undoubtedly busy doing last minute checks before the Maze Trials began. She tensed as she waited for something she was so used to.

This is where the lights would go out.

The anticipation was painful. When she realised the lights would be staying on, she breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

She felt a burst of panic as she glimpsed her watch. She'd have to hurry up if she wanted to catch Newt and the others before they left. Ruth ran, just like in the dream, along the route she knew like the back of her hand. Usually, dreams tweaked the environment, but strangely enough each and every corridor she took in the dream was actually there.

Then something caught her eye and she almost laughed aloud.

The door. That same door from her dream. Not the pale blue one from her first round of dreams. This was the one that, if Ruth's dream was correct, lead to the filing room.

Not so shockingly, the door wasn't locked. Deja vu crashed into Ruth yet again as she took in the room. Dim, flickering lights; filing cabinets everywhere; an old computer perched on a small desk. It was exactly how she'd dreamt it.

Automatically, she sat in front of the computer, waiting for it to flash to life. As she clicked through the folders, panic began to bubble. She'd never gotten further than this; never found out what it was she'd been looking for on this computer- she wasn't sure she was ready to find out.

She searched through the files on the Maze Trials, most of which seemed your typical boring wordy documents. Scanning through one of them, something caught her interest.

 _The Swipe._

As she read on, her stomach twisted uncomfortably as her revulsion grew.

They would lose their memories. Each and every person who entered the maze. They would forget everything about their previous lives- about WICKED, the Flare, their _families_.

Alby, Minho, even _Newt_ … they'd all forget her.

Beth wouldn't remember she had a twin. Their whole lives- up until WICKED- had been spent together. Matching outfits when they'd been toddlers, playing together, sharing a bedroom... it'd be like none of it had ever happened.

And Ruth would go on living, knowing _everything_. Knowing that to all these people she knew so well, she wouldn't exist.

The image of Newt and Lizzy hugging ferociously rang out in her head. Lizzy would forget her older brother, and Newt would forget the little sister he loved more than life itself.

Ruth couldn't let it happen. She had to stop it.

She went to close everything down, hiding from WICKED that she'd uncovered the truth, when something else caught her eye.

Something she'd later wish she had never discovered, hating herself for ever stumbling across it.

 _FIRE._

Drawn back into the screen, Ruth's horror grew with every word she read, but she couldn't stop. When she'd finally read all of it, she felt as though all air had vanished from her lungs. Her fingers gripped the edge of the desk as she waited for her head to stop spinning.

The foggy mess inside her head began to clear, allowing muddled thoughts to become comprehensible words.

 _Monsters_ , her mind screamed over and over, _all of them, monsters!_

Sanity clutched at her, squeezing her heart as one panicked name fell from her lips.

"Newt."

Ruth was already sprinting through the compound before her mind realised it. The floor flew by beneath her as her shoes smacked the concrete.

She had to tell them; had to tell _him_.

Skidding around the corner, Ruth spotted a queue of familiar faces. Chuck and Teresa stood back whilst Newt spoke to Thomas.

"Newt!" She panted. Everyone's head's swivelled to look at her as she ran towards him.

"Where you been?" Newt cracked a grin, "we thought you weren't going to show."

At the blissful ignorance on his smiling face, Ruth heard her heart crack in two. Newt chuckled as she dived into his arms, thinking her panic was because she'd almost missed them before they went into the maze.

It was only when he felt her shiver against him that he realised she was genuinely upset.

"Hey, it'll be okay." His arms tightened around her. "They'll have their cure soon and this will all be over. I'll be able to see you _and_ Lizzy again."

Ruth's eyes pricked. She had to tell him. She had to say something before he disappeared. Before he forgot her. She pulled back, an urgent look in her eyes.

"You have to listen to me." She hurried. "They're going to-"

Oh no.

"They're going-" Same thing again. The words wouldn't come out. It was like her throat was blocked, or her tongue wouldn't work. Something was stopping her from saying it. She couldn't warn him.

A hand clamped down on her shoulder. "Come on. They'll be going in soon." One of the security guards said gruffly.

"Just give me a minute." She blurted, her eyes not leaving Newt's face. He was evidently confused and desperate to hear the end of her sentence.

"You've had long enough." The guard said, tugging at her arm.

"Newt." She gripped his hand. She had to tell him- he deserved to know. "They haven't told you."

"Told me what?" He asked as her hand was pulled from his. Ruth tried to shove the man away, but another guard had come over to help. "Told me what!" Newt yelled.

Ruth didn't have time to answer, she was being dragged away. She slammed her shoes down but the floor was too slippery to get any grip.

Medical personnel grabbed Newt, stopping him from chasing after her. "Ruth!"

"Newt!" Ruth screamed, trying to yank her arms free. The security guards' bruising grips were too strong, their nails digging into her skin. "I'm sorry! I didn't know! I didn't know!"

Newt's face disappeared as she was hauled around the corner. His expression ingrained into her mind. Confusion, panic, despair… he knew something was wrong, but he didn't know _what_. Within the hour, his mind would be wiped, and he'd never know about FIRE. Ruth hadn't changed a thing.

All of it was part of WICKED's test. They didn't care. All the kids, they were just lab rats. Their memories, their _lives_ were unimportant.

Now though, Ruth knew the truth.

If Newt died, it would be WICKED's fault.


	8. Chapter 7

**A/N: Hi, I realised after posting the last chapter that the acronym FIRE already exists in James Dashner's universe. So in case any of you were confused, I just wanted to point out that FIRE means something different in this fic.**

 **We have at last reached the Maze Trials! I didn't know how quickly to move through the pre-maze era because now with Newt having forgotten Ruth, it's going to take a while to build up any sort of relationship between them, meaning less Newt fluff. And I couldn't make up for the lack of fluff by making things too serious between them before the maze because, well, they're still kids. So I figured I might sprinkle in some flashbacks over the next few chapters to keep the Newt feels alive, and to break up all the depressing stuff (let's face it, we all know which part of the maze we're dreading).**

* * *

Nobody had come for her yet. Not that she cared.

It had been hours since she saw Newt, since she was dragged away and flung into her room. Attacking her locked door had quickly dissipated her fury, leaving her numb and empty.

Ruth lay on her bed, her entire body feeling heavy. Mentally, she was exhausted; she'd given up trying to string coherent thoughts together. All that echoed in her head was overwhelming anguish that she couldn't shut out.

Her head began to ache- a recurring issue these past months, along with her peculiar dreams- but this time she didn't try and fight it. Ruth let the pounding wash over her, and she found that the oddest thing happened.

The pain stopped.

And in its place, spoke a voice.

 _FIRE_ , Dr Buren said sadly, _Flare Immunity-Reversal Experiment. Tampering with the genetics of the body's defence mechanism_. Ruth clamped her eyes shut and all she could see was the document she'd discovered, but Dr Buren continued to speak. _WICKED believed that if they could figure out how to supress a person's immunity to the Flare, it would help them learn how to 'switch it back on'. They would be able to make anyone immune. It was a flawed plan, but WICKED was willing to try anything, the world was in ruins and humanity was dying out, what was there to lose?_

Ruth was going mad, she wanted to deny it, but hearing voices was a step too far. To make matters worse, this voice was reminding her about the very thing she wanted to forget.

"Stop-"

 _Don't talk Ruth_ , Dr Buren interjected, _we can't have them knowing about this. Whatever you want to say,_ think _it._

Ruth's brows furrowed, and she sat up. Think it? The thought of Thomas and Teresa's telepathic conversations sprung to mind and Ruth began to understand what was happening- she wasn't going mad. Focusing her thoughts, she imagined speaking one word. She pictured the motion of her mouth and the way her tongue would roll.

 _Telepathy?_ she heard it echo in her head. It was overly enunciated and disjointed.

 _That's it,_ Dr Buren replied, _it'll get easier with practice. And yes, it uses the implants that WICKED inserted in all of the subjects years ago. You'll have noticed the other elites communicate in a similar way. My implant's a bit different and WICKED doesn't know I have it. Hence it's been a little trickier to establish this connection_.

 _The dreams._ Ruth thought, straining to voice the words to Dr Buren.

Y _es, it was too difficult to speak to you whilst you were conscious, your mind fought it too much which lead to those splitting headaches... sorry about that by the way_.

Ruth's brain whirred as it began to fit the puzzle together. Things started to make sense. Even in her dreams, her mind had hated it, always trying to pull away and wake up. Telepathic conversations were _not_ normal, no wonder her body was put under such strain as it tried to push out the intruder in her head.

Why had Dr Buren done it though? In all her dreams she had been trying to tell Ruth something. Then the dreams changed, and Ruth found that old, outdated room. The room that she found only hours ago, where she discovered another of WICKED's many secrets.

Dr Buren had wanted her to know. However, she obviously hadn't wanted WICKED to know that it was her that told Ruth. Why else would she go through all that trouble?

But something didn't make sense.

 _Why tell me?_ Ruth enquired. _You work for WICKED._

 _Ruth, they know that you know about FIRE_ , Dr Buren explained urgently, ignoring Ruth's question, _they're the reason you couldn't tell Newt about it. But whatever you do, don't tell them about_ me _._

Ruth's door swung open and she felt the link between her and Dr Buren snap shut.

"Hello Ruth," Dr Paige smiled kindly, "are you feeling better?"

"I was never unwell." Ruth answered sharply as she considered Dr Buren's last words to her.

"Well I heard you had quite the outburst earlier," Dr Paige's tone was overly calm and polite as she sat by Ruth's desk, pretending she wasn't the monster Ruth had discovered her to be. "You made numerous candidates unnecessarily distressed, which is not what we needed right before the Maze Trials."

"How inconvenient for you." Ruth retorted.

"Ruth, tell me what's wrong." She pleaded. "This is so unlike you."

"I think you know what's wrong." Ruth growled, "I found out about FIRE, and I refuse to continue to play your twisted game. Just as you knew I would, same with the other elites. It's why you kept it from us isn't it? Because you know it's _wrong_!"

"You're so young, so isolated here, it's difficult for any of you to understand the bigger picture-"

"If you don't find a cure, the immunes are all humanity has left, and you decide you want to damn them too!"

"There's such a small population of immunes and the world would be ridden with Cranks far past the Gone, there's no way the immunes could survive-"

"Get out."

Dr Paige's smile dropped; lips pressing into a straight line.

"Need I remind you-"

"I said GET OUT!" Ruth glared at the woman, waiting for her to react. Some emotion flitted across Dr Paige's face. Impatience, frustration... smugness? Before Ruth could decipher the expression, it vanished, quickly replaced by her professional and polite facade.

"I'll return when you have calmed down." Ruth didn't say a word as Dr Paige stood and exited the room.

Then Ruth was alone.

More alone than she'd been in a long time.

* * *

It was five days before anything changed. Ruth sat against the wall with her knees curled up to her chest, still locked in her room. The only contact she had with anyone was when someone would bring her food. Even then, they did it wordlessly, placing the tray on her desk and leaving without sparing her a glance.

Not even Dr Buren had spoken to her: in person or in her head.

Yet Ruth never found herself sitting in silence. Her mind replayed memories with her friends. The midnight meetups. Minho and his sarcastic comments. Chuck and his lame jokes that made everyone laugh. Alby and his wit as he argued with Thomas over something trivial. Newt's shoulder pressed against hers as he whispered a joke at Minho's expense in her ear.

She'd never have that again. For years Ruth had tricked herself into thinking that everything would be okay after the Maze Trials, that things would be even better than they had been beforehand. Evidently, she had been painfully naive. WICKED _would_ carry out Phase Two and Three, intensifying the variables as the cure remained out of reach. The unattainable cure. WICKED was ignorant of the truth, they were delusional and had no boundaries as to how far they were willing to go.

"Newt," she begged under her breath, "come back."

Her head shot up as the door clicked open. Ruth's hopeful expression dropped as Thomas slipped inside. She gave him a half-hearted smile.

"Hey, Thomas." She didn't know what WICKED had told him, how much truth had been woven into their web of lies.

"Ruth," he greeted watching her with pity in his eyes.

"What's up?"

"I know you're on lockdown," he explained, "they said you'd become too attached to Newt. Ignored the importance of our work and selfishly tried to stop the Maze Trials so you could stay together."

"You believe that?" Ruth scoffed, anger bubbling. "You were there Thomas, did you think that was just a pathetic lovesick girl trying to keep her boyfriend?"

Thomas shook his head sharply. "No, no. You sounded desperate… as if the world were crumbling around you."

"In case you hadn't noticed," she gestured around them, "it kinda is."

"But that's just it," Thomas sat next to her on the floor, "the world's been like that for years. You were acting as if it were happening all over again for the first time. I saw you that morning, at breakfast. You were _fine_. Then Chuck tells me you wandered off and when you show up again you're... " he shook his head, "no, there's more to it than WICKED says."

Ruth looked to him, surprised by his belief in her.

"And you want me to tell you what I found?"

"Yes… _but_ " his mouth twisted, "I don't think you can. You would've told Newt. You would've told me as soon as I got here and WICKED wouldn't have let me see you in the first place."

That boy caught on quickly. It was true; even _thinking_ about telling Thomas everything brought on the strange sensation. Like a hand was reaching up through her throat, catching the words that put WICKED's secret at risk.

"Listen," Thomas began, gazing at the ceiling, "I don't know what you saw but we've all seen the Grievers in action, we know what WICKED is capable of doing. But Ruth," he looked to her, "what other choice have we got? Everyone in the maze has got a much better chance if we're there watching over them." A smirk crept onto his mouth. "So how about you quit moping and I can show you Newt." Thomas stood up, holding his hand out to Ruth. "I've got you interested, haven't I?"

Ruth flickered between his hand and face. Show her Newt? She desperately wanted to see him, but she didn't know what else she would be agreeing to if she went with Thomas, if she finally left her room.

"I thought I was on lockdown?"

"You were," Thomas hummed, "but then Chuck and I joined forces to nag Dr Paige. Heads up, if you ever want her to do something, give yourself a five-day margin."

Ruth bit the inside of her cheek as she eyed his hand; it was getting harder to resist.

"Don't worry, no strings attached." Thomas insisted. "I used the argument that seeing the maze might make you more inclined to help, but you won't be forced to do anything."

She took his hand letting him pull her to her feet, "Thanks, Thomas." If there was one thing she knew about Thomas, it was that he was honest. He always wanted to do the right thing, he wouldn't be lying to Ruth and conspiring with WICKED. She could tell he didn't like WICKED, he was aware of how much the organisation kept from them. But as he said, what other choice did they have?

He led her into the corridor where there was a guard waiting to escort her. Ruth arched a brow and Thomas rolled his eyes and shrugged. As the three of them walked, Ruth felt something shift, like when someone entered a room.

 _Where'd you disappear to?_ Ruth asked, irritation evident in her tone.

 _I've spent too long putting this together to risk losing it all by talking to you too much_. Dr Buren refused to put up with Ruth's attitude. _We can't seem suspicious. Either of us._

If Ruth could have huffed without attracting the attention of Thomas or the guard, she would have.

 _I have a question actually_ , she asked instead, _about FIRE... Newt was told he wasn't immune before he even came to WICKED, so how is it possible for him to have ever been immune?_

Ruth could practically feel Dr Buren rolling her eyes.

 _You think WICKED exists solely within this compound? Scattered across the world, they've got several official WICKED facilities as well as undercover WICKED personnel in hundreds of hospitals. When people went for their blood tests, to check whether they were infected and find out if they were immune, WICKED's doctors would tell the selected Immunes that they_ weren't _immune- there's no way they'd be able to know otherwise._

 _So, when Newt went for his tests... they were lying_.

 _Exactly_. Dr Buren confirmed. _If the first phase of FIRE was unsuccessful, and they_ couldn't _supress immunity, then no harm done. But an Immune suddenly getting the Flare... that would raise questions. WICKED needed to cover their tracks- the fewer suspicions the better_.

Ruth followed Thomas into the lift, the guard at her tail. He pressed the button for one of the lower floors, where they'd often go when working on the Maze.

 _And they did that for_ all _the supposed 'Non-Immunes'?_

 _No_ , Dr Buren answered, _they still wanted control variables. Only a third of the 'Non-Immunes' are true 'Non-Immunes'. The rest were lied to. However, supressing immunity proved more difficult with some candidates than others; not everyone has had their immunity reversed._

The lift doors opened, and Ruth felt Dr Buren leave her mind.

"Most of our work was designing and building the maze," Thomas said as they neared their destination, "now that the Maze Trials have started, apparently our main focus is to observe." He pushed open a door, revealing a room filled with screens. Each of which showed various areas of the Glade.

Ruth stiffened as she spotted Dr Paige. She was stood behind Chuck who sat in front of the largest screen, a wide control pattern in front of him. Dr Paige turned as she heard the door open.

"Ruth," she smiled, the sincerity of it almost fooling the girl. Almost. "Thomas has reminded me that despite your current outlook on our work, you did help to build the maze. If it weren't for you, we wouldn't have made it this far and you deserve to see what your years of hard work were for."

"I get to watch the Glade?" Ruth glanced around at the screens, not believing she would be allowed access to the experiment she wanted to end.

"Yes," Dr Paige nodded, "under supervision you will be permitted to observe the Maze Trials once a fortnight. You will not, however, be able to interact with the Trials. Including control of the beetle blades as well as inputting on any variables or changes within the Maze. Unless of course you change your mind and are willing to discuss the incident from the other day."

As if she would give in that easily. "Thank you." The less Ruth said, the better.

Dr Paige at last broke her stare as she glided past Ruth. "One more thing," she paused by the door, "if you decided you wanted to help us again, you would also be granted access to the Group B maze." Dr Paige left before Ruth had a chance to reply.

"Ruth this is so cool!" Chuck exclaimed, popping Ruth from her daze. "Come look!"

She took the seat next to Chuck and Thomas sat on her other side. Thomas pressed one of the buttons, revealing a list of ID's for each camera in the Maze. Scrolling through the list, Thomas selected one and a view of the Glade filled the screen. Ruth's breath caught as she saw Newt.

He was slouched against a tree in the forest area of the Glade, looking up at Minho as the frustrated boy waved his arms about.

"Can we get sound on this?" Ruth asked.

"Sure," Thomas replied, "Chuck hit that button. The blue one- no- the one above it. There you go buddy." Thomas grinned, and Newt's voice emerged from the speaker.

"Look," Ruth's heart twanged as he spoke, "I agree that we should send people out there," Newt tried to calm the flustered Minho, "but half the idiots in this place would get lost if they put one foot past those doors."

"Then just a group of us," Minho proposed, "the fastest, the ones that can get in and out before those doors shut."

"And you think everyone else would be happy to wait like sitting ducks?" Newt asked with disbelief.

"We find them something to do: cook something half decent or sort out something comfier to sleep on than the ground. Something that makes this place somewhere we can live until we find the way out."

"You want us to settle in, accept we're stuck here... I doubt the others will like that."

"What about you?" Minho looked at him curiously. Newt thought for a moment, considering everything the boy had said. Ruth watched him as he sat, deep in thought, wondering what was going on in his head. How much of him did the Swipe take away?

"I saw you climbing those walls," Newt finally replied, "when everyone else was running about like headless chickens, you were already working on a plan. If you say the only way out of here is through whatever that is," he motioned to the Maze, "then I know it's not going to be bloody easy. We're going to be here for a while and anyone who says otherwise has got a head full of sand."

Minho grinned. "Glad someone in here's got brains."

"Tell you what," Newt began, "you run your idea by the others, and I'll back you up."

"Thanks," Minho started to turn before halting. "What did you say your name was again?"

Ruth had almost forgotten the two had no recollection of the other. These two boys that had been friends for years... they didn't know each other. It hurt to watch.

"Newt," he answered simply, "now quit bothering me."

Minho smirked. "You're alright, Newt." He then ran towards the centre of the Glade, allowing Newt the peace he craved.

He shut his eyes, warm sunlight filtering through the trees and onto his face. So calm and relaxed. Ruth's mind couldn't wrap around the fact that he didn't know her. Surely, he must remember her in some way, maybe deep down in his subconscious. He couldn't just _forget_.

"It's weird isn't it?" Thomas broke Ruth out of her trance.

"Yeah," Ruth nodded to him absentmindedly, "you could say that."

She looked back at Newt, all remnants of stress and fear washed from his features.

No, he was still Newt. He would always be her Newt.

* * *

It hadn't taken Ruth long to cave. Despite knowing she should be annoyed with herself, furious at her lack of integrity, she couldn't bring herself to feel either of those things. WICKED was going to continue the trials regardless of whether she helped. Sitting stubbornly in her room wasn't going to change anything. At least if she did agree to 'help', she'd be kept in the loop; she wouldn't be constantly worrying how Newt and Beth were doing.

Rapping her knuckles against the door, Ruth heard Dr Paige beckon her in. She pushed the door open, tensing as she saw Dr Paige typing away at her desk.

"Take a seat." Dr Paige said, not glancing up from her computer. Ruth did as she said, nervously tapping her shoes against the floor. "What can I help you with Ruth?"

"You were right," she said, making Dr Paige pause her typing and look straight at Ruth. "Seeing the Maze in use has reminded me about what all this was for."

"You want to help us?" Dr Paige clarified. For a fleeting moment, Ruth almost backed out. She wondered if this was really the right thing to do. Would Newt do this, if he were in her shoes?

It wasn't difficult to figure out what Beth would do; Beth was the most stubborn and impulsive person Ruth knew, she would choose the moral high ground. Newt however, he was calmer, more rational. He would think through the choices, and then decide which option would be better in the long run.

"Yes," she answered, "it's like you said, I've worked with WICKED, towards a cure, for years. Doesn't make sense to stop now."

"And how do you feel about FIRE, I hope it won't affect your ability to work?" Ruth felt like she was suffocating under Dr Paige's stare.

"I don't agree with it," Ruth said honestly. It would be the best course of action with WICKED to offer as much truth as possible. "But our objective is still the same and taking the moral high ground won't find us a cure."

"Wonderful, I'm so pleased you feel that way." Dr Paige smiled, and it _seemed_ sincere. "How was it that you came across our files on FIRE?"

This is where the slight twisting of truth came into play.

"I was angry," Ruth looked down at her lap, "I didn't want them to go into the Maze. I felt like it wasn't fair." She looked up at Dr Paige. "I knew WICKED kept secrets from us, and I was hoping I'd uncover something."

"Uncover what exactly?" Dr Paige pressed.

"I don't know," Ruth shrugged, "maybe proof of the Grievers to show the candidates, something that would make them refuse to go into the Maze."

"And you realise that was wrong?"

"I do." Ruth nodded. "I panicked and tried to prevent anything changing. I know now how selfish that was of me."

"I appreciate your honesty, Ruth, I really do." Dr Paige thanked. "We all make mistakes, we're human. The key is to recognise those mistakes and ensure they don't happen again."

Ruth could sense the warning beneath her words. This was Ruth's last chance.

"I understand."

"Excellent." Her chair scraped on the floor as she stood up. "It would be a pleasure to have you on board again. I'll inform the rest of WICKED so they're aware of your upgraded clearance level." She guided Ruth to the door, smiling the whole time.

"Thank you, Dr Paige."

"Just a quick question." Dr Paige chimed, "how was it that you ended up in that particular room? Of all the places within the compound, you seemed to know where you were heading."

Worry spiked within Ruth. Hold eye contact. Don't look away, don't look away.

"I suppose I was searching for somewhere I'd never been." Ruth said boldly. "It would be pointless looking for something I didn't know in the areas of the compound I'm always in."

"Very tactical of you." Dr Paige commended. "A quality we encourage, it's very useful in this line of work."

Ruth forced a smile, hiding the shiver through her body. Dr Paige's praise hadn't felt warm but rather eerie and suspicious.

There really was something unnerving about that woman.

* * *

Paranoia is what Ruth expected to feel. During every day at every turn, constantly on guard and wary of WICKED's actions. Maybe she did experience it to some extent, it certainly worsened when she returned to her room for the night. All suspicion, however, vanished when she was watching her sister. Who was currently laughing with some of the other girls in the Glade. Beth was happy- oblivious to the hell that was occurring outside the maze.

Ruth couldn't recall the last time Beth had seemed so carefree. The Flare had taken that luxury from them. WICKED had done some awful things, things Ruth could not forgive, but she was forced to admit they had also done some good. It had provided the candidates with blissful ignorance, something Ruth found herself wanting.

Did she trust WICKED? No. Far from it. Did WICKED trust her? On the surface, yes, but Ruth knew better. Dr Paige constantly kept an eye on her. Whenever she conversed with the woman, tension coated every sentence. Each of them analysing every word the other said.

Regardless, Ruth had been granted the privileges she was promised: watching both mazes and controlling beetle blades. There hadn't been any need for input on the maze variables yet. Currently WICKED was allowing the Gladers to settle in, the only change being the arrival of the Box. This time, however, the Box would be holding something other than supplies.

Today would be the first time another joined their ranks.

Alarm blaring, Beth and the others headed towards the Box. They were familiar with the occurrence and made jokes about what they hoped would be amongst the crates of supplies. One wished for chocolate cake, another for more comfortable shoes. Ruth chuckled at their simple requests.

The room Ruth was in was crowded. It was the Group B observation room and it was filled with anxious Psychs and Doctors. She stood to the side with Aris and Rachel, craning their necks to get a better look at the large screen.

The Box arrived, and the alarm ended. Everything was silent. All murmurings in the room, and in the Glade, stopped. Miyoko stepped forward, opening the hatch. She peered into the box, leaping back suddenly.

"What is it?" Ruth could just make out Lizzy's blonde hair amongst the crowd.

Miyoko faced the crowd with wide eyes, pointing wordlessly to the Box. A girl sighed, pushing through the mass to get to the Box. Dropping through the hatch, a thud sounded as she hit the metal floor.

Everyone waited, no one speaking a word.

"Harriet?" Someone called.

No answer.

Finally, an arm appeared through the hatch, clutching at the ground. The Gladers sighed in relief. The person heaved themselves up and every single Glader took a step backwards as they realised it wasn't Harriet.

The freckled girl had short hair, a sort of faded ginger, that tickled her shoulders. Her jaw dropped as she gaped at the colossal walls enclosing the Glade. There was then a clang and a huff as Harriet climbed out of the Box.

"This is Mary." She clapped her hand onto the girl's shoulder. "Doesn't remember a thing but her name, same as us. So, let's _not_ go harassing her for information she doesn't have." She gave everyone a pointed look before marching off. "Come on Newbie, I'll show you round."

Mary, clearly self-conscious by the way everyone stared at her, quickly scuttled after Harriet. The atmosphere swiftly changed as the Gladers swarmed the Box, investigating its contents.

Oblivious to Rachel's sympathetic gaze, Ruth's eyes followed Beth on the screens. She couldn't help but remember the pair of them playing in their small garden when they were younger, naming the beetles they found. An insignificant memory but still it caused a pang in Ruth's chest. The twin she grew up with, the girl she would share all her secrets with, had been through so much. More than any child should have to endure. Taken from her family and being a part of WICKED's trials was awful enough, but then WICKED had to go and separate her from her twin.

The whole time, Ruth had been there, watching over Beth in any way she could, but Beth didn't know that. Beth hadn't even known that Ruth was alright. For all those years she must have felt so isolated and _lost._

Knowing Ruth herself was the cause of that anguish, wracked her with guilt. They were supposed to be there for each other- forever -but Ruth had let her down.

Now, Beth wouldn't remember the garden or the beetles, nor the lonely years she spent at WICKED.

She wouldn't even remember Ruth.

An excited buzz swirled around the observation room as Psychs rushed around, checking various readings on different screens. Ruth looked around the room, contemplating the difference between where she was standing, and the place shown on the screens. There were almost no similarities.

Technologically, the WICKED compound was far more advanced. WICKED also had knowledge and purpose, whereas the Gladers were just trying to escape- they didn't even know what they were escaping to. However, none of those things were what Ruth found most painful about the situation. It was the distance between where she stood at that very instant, and the grassy Glade on the screens. They were so _close_. If she were allowed, Ruth could be in the maze within minutes.

Yet it felt as though it were miles and miles away. As Ruth's eyes flickered back to Beth, she pictured standing in the Glade, next to her twin. The physical resemblance was undeniable, but Beth wouldn't look at her with familiarity or affection. Ruth knew what emotions would flitter across her sister's face.

Shock, confusion, despair.

It must hurt, knowing you had a life before the maze that you can't remember. It must hurt even more when you have a piece of your past right in front of you… and having no memories resurface.

A lump in her throat, Ruth left the room, unable to keep watching her sister.

It was unbearable having a piece of your past right in front of you… and knowing _everything_.


	9. Chapter 8

**A/N: Hi guys, I'm SO sorry it took me this long to upload. I thought I'd have loads of time to get some writing done over Summer but I ended up getting distracted by a ton of stuff and then I had a bit of writer's block so again, very very sorry!**

 **Writer0617: Thank you so much for the review, it made me so so so happy! Your ideas were absolutely amazing by the way, I loved them to bits! Looking at what I had planned for the story, your idea felt like the little piece I was missing to make it all flow so THANK YOU!**

 **Thanks to everyone else who has reviewed over the past few chapters, I love reading them and it's great to know what you guy think!**

* * *

 **Month four of Maze Trials.**

"That thing doesn't quit, does it?" Alby walked beside Newt, eyeing the beetle blade.

"Nope." Newt watched the creature as it scuttled alongside his feet

"Even the goddamn beetle blades like you." Alby grumbled.

"What can I say? I'm a likeable guy." Newt joked, and Alby rolled his eyes.

"And it follows you everywhere?" Alby asked.

Newt shook his head, "it only sticks 'round for a few hours. Then it goes off somewhere for the rest of the day."

"Does it still do the...climbing thing?" Alby's face scrunched up.

"You mean this?" Newt stopped, crouching down. He held his hand out, resting it on the grass. The beetle blade paused for a few seconds before creeping onto Newt's hand. Newt's mouth quirked up into a smile as it climbed up and around his arm before resting on his shoulder.

"I don't know how you can let it do that." Alby grimaced as he stared at the creature.

Newt chuckled at his friend's disgust, although he understood what he meant. The beetle blades were...odd. With their mechanical legs and the red light at its head acting as a reminder that someone was watching him. Despite knowing he shouldn't be so at ease, he couldn't help but feel comfortable. The friendly nature of this particular beetle blade made him feel less...isolated. It linked him to the outside world, knowing that someone was watching out for him.

Holding his hand up to his shoulder, the beetle blade crawled onto it. Gently, he lowered the beetle blade to the ground. It scuttled onto the grass, twisting around to peer at Newt. Newt stared curiously, wondering- and not for the first time- what exactly the beetle blades were. Who made them? Who controlled them? He could sense someone watching him, the one behind that bright, red light in the beetle blade's eye.

And he wanted to know who.

"Come on you shank," Alby snapped him from his thoughts, "I'm starving, and I bet you are too after all that running."

Newt looked up. "Good that." Pushing the beetle blade from his mind, he followed Alby to the kitchens.

Meanwhile, in the WICKED compound, Ruth bit her lip as she tried to control her smile. Pushing the small lever forward, the beetle blade scrambled into motion once more.

"Hi Ruth."

Ruth jolted out of her seat as she whipped around. Teresa stood at the door not even trying to hide her smirk.

"Shuck Teresa," Ruth gasped, slipping into Glader slang, "you scared me."

"I noticed." She chirped smugly. Thomas and Chuck popped around the door.

"Hey Ruth!" Chuck exclaimed giddily as he hopped onto the seat next to her. "What's been happening?"

"For starters, Ruth's still stalking Newt." Teresa smirked as she sat down.

"I do _not_ stalk him!" Ruth scowled. "We all watch them through cameras thank you very much."

"Sure." Teresa shrugged, laughing when Ruth groaned in frustration.

"So," Thomas said loudly, cutting off any retorts Ruth might have come up with, "what _have_ we missed?"

"Not much, Zart's settling in alright and nearly all the Runners are back at the Glade."

"A good, normal day." Thomas grinned. "Less stuff to write in the reports. Brilliant."

"What's going on over there?" Teresa cut in, pointing to one of the smaller screens.

Everyone's gazes shifted to where Teresa was pointing. All Ruth could see was a huddle near the simple shelter WICKED had made for them. The Gladers had begun adding to it by leaning spare wood against the wall. Not much, but WICKED was eagerly anticipating the Glader's development of structure into larger sleeping quarters.

Thomas moved the image onto the central monitor, allowing them to get a better look. That's when Ruth noticed the suspicious stances of the boys. They were packed tightly together by the entrance of the shelter, blocking the view of what was inside. Heads turned back and forth, scanning their surroundings as if they were fearful of being caught. Frantic whispers could be heard but all it sounded like was the distant babble of a river; Ruth couldn't decipher any words.

"What're they up to?" Thomas leaned closer to the screen.

"Let's find out." Ruth pushed a series of buttons, searching for a beetle blade to override. She frowned. "They're all locked, I can't access any of them."

Teresa sighed, pressing the button to connect them to the command room.

"Why are the beetle blades locked? We need to see what's going on."

"We're keeping them at a distance." A gravelly voice explained, "we want to see how it plays out before we let them know we're watching."

"Can't you at least get one to zoom in?" Thomas piped up.

"We'll do our best. Command room out." The blunt reply was followed by a loud click, signalling that the connection had been cut off.

"Well, wasn't he a ray of sunshine?" Ruth chimed.

As the camera zoomed in, Alby leaned into the shelter. With difficulty, he and Newt began dragging something from the shadows.

"What..." Teresa said. "What is that?"

"It's a person!" Chuck yelled, and Ruth's stomach dropped. Newt and Alby were dragging the boy by his legs as he writhed on the ground. Releasing his hold, Alby leapt forward and punched the boy in the face. Then again. And again. Newt latched onto Alby's arm, hauling his friend back.

"Can you tell who it is?" Teresa asked.

Chuck darted around the control panel so he was right next to the large screen. Peering curiously at the boy on the ground, he gasped. "I know him! That's George."

"The one who welcomed Zart into the Glade?" Thomas asked.

"No way," Ruth shook her head, "that was _yesterday_. You can't go from that to, well," she nodded to the screen, " _that_ , in the space of a day."

"Turns out you can," Chuck said, "because that's definitely George."

"What happened then?" Teresa panicked. "Why would Alby beat the hell out of George?"

Nobody had an answer.

"Chuck get back over here," Thomas barked, "I can't see all the views."

Chuck complied, sitting back next to Ruth. Thomas had swiped a different view onto the main display and Ruth realised that a beetle blade was hiding in the vines above the group of Gladers, allowing them a perfect view.

As she got a clear visual on George, Ruth's arm instinctively wrapped around Chuck's shoulder.

George didn't just look ill. He looked as if he were on Death's door. He shouldn't still be breathing. Not in that state. His eyes were bulging and bloodshot. Boils littered his skin which no longer seemed to fit his face. Writhing in complete agony, his sharp moans went straight through you.

"What the bloody hell is wrong with him?" Newt shouted.

Someone stepped forward, a boy Ruth recognised as Nick. "I told you guys," he said, "we were out exploring the Maze. He was always ahead of me. I heard all these mechanical sounds, and then Georgie screamed. I could barely get him back here."

"Who's that?" Thomas wondered.

"Nick." Ruth and Chuck answered at the same time. "Picks his nose." Chuck added.

Everyone's eyes shot to the boy, their eyes wide.

"Seriously? Now?" Thomas asked.

"That's all I know about him!"

"An essential detail." Ruth murmured.

"I didn't want the others to see him," Alby said, "get everybody spooked. Fat chance of avoiding that now."

"Well, why were you just hitting him in the face?" Nick asked, furious. "He's my friend, you know. He needs medical help, not some hothead beating on him."

"He was trying to freaking bite me!" Alby yelled. "Back off!"

"Boys, slim it," Newt stepped between them. "Let's figure this out. What do we do?"

Everyone looked down at George who was only getting worse. His veins were bulging from his face and his eyes had grown so large they looked as if they were about to burst.

"Did you see what attacked him?" Alby asked Nick.

"Saw nothing." Nick shook his head.

"Did George say anything?" Newt couldn't tear his eyes from the boy on the ground.

Nick nodded. "Well, yeah, I think so. Not sure, but...I think he was whispering 'It stung me, it stung me, it stung me...'" Ruth realised what those words meant before the others did.

"It stung me..." Thomas murmured, wracking his brain for some sort of explanation.

"It was weird, man." Nick continued. "He sounded like he was possessed or something. What're we gonna do?"

The Gladers began to carry George to the centre of the Glade. As they did, Newt shouted at the sky.

"Hey! Whoever sent us here! Send us some medicine. How 'bout a bloody doctor? Better yet, why don't you take us out of this hellhole!"

A blanket of silence covered the four individuals in the observation room. No one moved, as if they didn't want to alert the Gladers to their presence. It was like they'd been caught doing something they shouldn't have. Guilt and shame bubbled within Ruth. They were sitting there _watching_ a boy in agony, unable to do anything. WICKED must have been able to help in some way.

Yet no one did anything.

Newt didn't know who it was that put them in the Maze, nor did he know _why_ they were put there, but he didn't care about any of that right now.

Because he knew _someone_ was out there watching him, watching all of them. Someone was watching George go through hell and they weren't stopping it.

 _That's_ what made Newt mad.

Dropping George near the Box, the ruckus caught the attention of the other Gladers. A large crowd gathered around to see what all the fuss was about.

"Listen up!" Nick shouted. "Georgie and I were out in the Maze, running the corridors, and he got up ahead of me. Something attacked him. He keeps saying he got _stung_. Anybody know anything about this?"

"Minho's seen some kind of creature out there," Alby remembered. "Where's Minho?"

"Creature?" Chuck whispered though the others all heard it. Ruth subtly turned her head, meeting Thomas's gaze. They all knew what had caused this. Guilt sliced through them as innocent Chuck looked at the repercussions of a Griever, horrified. Thomas swallowed as his eyes flickered to the small boy on Ruth's other side. If Chuck knew everything they knew, would he look at them with the same mortified expression?

Minho was still out running, but Frypan had found a syringe labelled _serum_ in the supplies. He raced off to fetch it and everyone was forced to wait until he returned, watching George's condition deteriorate.

That's when Ruth felt it. That something was so incredibly wrong.

"Chuck let's go." Ruth said, trying to hide her hysteria. Chuck looked to her, baffled.

"Why can't I stay? It's not like WICKED will let him die right? It's just a test to see how everyone reacts."

"Of course." Teresa soothed. "The serum will save him, they just better hurry."

Frypan had passed the syringe to Nick who was crouched by George's side.

"Anyone know how to do this?" Nick asked. "Where to stick it?"

"Chuck. Now." Ruth stood up, trying to tug Chuck up with her.

"No," Chuck refused to budge, "I have to see what happens to George."

"Anywhere!" Alby yelled. "Just hurry and do it! Look at him!"

"Now Chuck!" Ruth snapped, causing the boy to flinch. Nick slammed the syringe into George's arm, pushing the plunger down all the way. Everyone took a couple steps back, waiting to see what would happen.

Chuck made no sign of moving. Ruth looked to Thomas and Teresa for help. Thomas's eyes were glued to the screen, oblivious to Ruth's outburst. Teresa gazed at her quietly with understanding.

"She's right Chuck." Teresa agreed. "We'll come find you when this is over. We promise."

"I have to see what happens," Chuck insisted, "you swore he'd be okay."

Teresa didn't hesitate. "He will be. We just can't have you in here right now."

"Come on, Chuck." Ruth took his hand, and this time he followed.

They slipped through the doorway just as George's rabid cries filled the air.

"Griever! It was a damn Griever! They'll kill us all!"

Then the door shut, and Ruth and Chuck drowned in the silence.

* * *

Ruth lay in bed, reluctant to emerge from underneath the sheets. Her whole body felt heavy. Teresa had caught her up the night before, whilst Thomas broke the news to Chuck gently, telling the young boy a brief version of the truth.

George was dead. The serum had driven him mad; he tried to gouge a boy's eyes out. Alby was forced to act.

He rammed George's head through with a wooden spear.

Ruth had been livid. Not at Alby, he was only trying to save the poor boy George was attacking, but WICKED. Not only were they responsible for George's death, they had turned Alby- a _kid_ \- into a murderer. Teresa told her that she and Thomas had confronted Dr Paige.

A mistake, she had said. That's all it was. The Griever's sting emulated the effects of the Flare and WICKED _thought_ they had the antidote. Evidently, it needed some tweaking.

 _What the hell is going on!_ Ruth yelled in her mind as she felt the connection open.

 _Ruth, I know you're angry-_ Dr Buren began.

 _Of course, I'm angry! Someone has died!_ She screamed, _I thought you were against WICKED, why would you let this happen!_

 _Ruth,_ Dr Buren said calmly, _you know I'm not part of WICKED, I didn't want George to go through that._

 _But he did._ Ruth clenched her fists. _And I bet you could've stopped it, you could have tried at least. What's the point of all this, of these conversations, you telling me about FIRE, if we aren't going to_ do _anything to stop it._

 _We will, just not yet._ Dr Buren assured her. _We have to wait for the right time._

 _Don't you get it? If we keep waiting and sitting back whilst people die and those surviving become murderers, there'll be no one left_ to _save!_

 _WICKED won't let all its candidates die. They want as many to go onto the next trial as possible. They didn't want George to die._

 _Are you defending them?_ Ruth asked incredulously.

 _Don't be ridiculous. All I'm saying is that acting now wouldn't amount to anything in the long run, we'd get caught and everyone in the Maze would still be trapped._

Ruth was silent for one long moment.

 _How do I know you're not part of WICKED? That this isn't just another stupid project?_

Dr Buren sighed, _how am I supposed to convince you?_

 _Tell me why you're doing this. You've said you have people on the outside, that they sent you here to rescue the subjects from WICKED...but why_ you _?_

It was Dr Buren's turn to be quiet.

 _I had a son,_ she whispered at last, Ruth's mind straining to hear her. _WICKED took him. I had the skillset to go undercover, so I spent years in different WICKED facilities, searching for him. I also sent as much information as I could to my friends to help them take down the different bases._

Ruth processed what Dr Buren had said. She seemed convincing enough. Truth be told, Ruth hadn't truly doubted the woman's intentions, she just needed some sort of reassurance. Working for WICKED could make a person incredibly paranoid.

 _What's the plan then?_ Ruth enquired, moving on from the subject of Dr Buren's son- she could tell it hurt the woman to talk about him.

 _For us? Nothing. We just wait until we hear from the outside._

There was a knock at the door.

"Come in," Ruth called hoarsely. Teresa's head peered through the doorway.

"Ruth! What're you still doing in bed? Get that ass of yours up." Teresa yanked the covers from her.

"Fine, fine." Ruth groaned, stumbling to the bathroom.

 _Who are these people anyway?_ Ruth asked as she shut the bathroom door, _how are they able to even consider breaking into WICKED?_

Dr Buren considered how safe it was to reveal their identity to Ruth. She was already taking a huge risk disclosing as much as she had. If Ruth decided she wanted no part of her plan, or if WICKED tricked or threatened Ruth into telling them everything she knew...it would be over.

Nevertheless, Dr Buren needed Ruth to trust her. She needed Ruth on her side. It would be hypocritical to then hide things from her. That was WICKED's way of doing things, and she was not WICKED.

Before she could change her mind, Dr Buren answered Ruth truthfully.

 _They call themselves the Right Arm._

* * *

 **Month nine of Maze Trials.**

Crunch.

Chomp. Chomp.

Swallow.

Crunch.

"Has anyone ever told you how loudly you eat?" Ruth narrowed her eyes at Thomas, who didn't bother finishing his mouthful of toast before answering.

"Nod dah loud." He shook his head.

Ruth's nose crinkled as crumbs flew from his mouth. "You're disgusting."

Luckily, this time he replied without a full mouth. "At least I don't slurp my soup."

"I do not-" she faltered as she caught Chuck's eye, "no...no I don't slurp, do I?"

Chuck's guilty expression was the only answer she needed. She looked down at her bowl in dismay.

"No more soup for me then." She reluctantly pushed the soup away.

"If you insist." Chuck said eagerly, his hands already pulling the bowl closer. He brought a spoonful to his mouth, humming contently. Ruth pouted before looking to Thomas for a distraction.

Something passed across Thomas's eyes and his eyes flitted from the cafeteria door behind Ruth, to Chuck.

"Hey Chuck, we've got some work to be getting on with, you okay sticking with Teresa while she eats?"

Chuck looked up from his bowl, turning around to see Teresa, accompanied by a boy Ruth didn't recognise, collecting their food trays. He swivelled back to face Thomas and nodded enthusiastically.

"Thanks, buddy." Thomas grinned. "C'mon Ruth."

The pair stood up from the table, adding their empty dishes to the pile at the side of the room. Offering a small wave to a confused Teresa, they swiftly left the room.

Ruth eyed Thomas, waiting to hear whatever it was that had gotten him so restless.

"Gally got stung." He scratched the back of his head, twisting unsubtly to see if there was anyone about.

Ruth's brows furrowed; that couldn't be right. Gally wasn't a runner, he didn't go into the Maze. There's no way- unless...

"They went into the Glade?" She gasped, terrified by the thought of grievers wreaking havoc in the one place the boys thought they were safe.

Thomas shook his head, "no, Gally went into the Maze, well, snuck in really. He looked pretty distraught and I guess he just wanted to get out of the Glade, even if it was just for a moment." Thomas trailed off, trapped in his thoughts as he remembered Gally's tear-stained face.

Ruth's gaze fell limply to the floor, watching her slow steps. "Oh."

She'd never been friends with Gally. The one time she had spoken with him was when she was yelling at his and Minho's stupidity when they were planning to flee WICKED. Nevertheless, guilt slid down her throat as she imagined the boy's distress. After what had happened to George...she didn't think anyone would want to venture into where Grievers lurked. Some of the runners had dropped out, but most persevered. For Gally, however, it wasn't his job to go into the Maze.

If a few seconds of freedom were worth the risk of getting stung, Ruth hated to think about the hell the boys must be feeling.

"There's something else too," Thomas said as they reached his bedroom. He held the door open, glancing around again. Ruth swallowed at his serious expression and swept into the room. She perched on the end of his bed, fighting the urge to bombard him with questions.

"There's this new guy. Ben. The one Teresa was with. He arrived today, and I was supposed to give him a tour but then the Gally thing happened-"

"Wait, he was with you?" Ruth's eyes widened.

"He was waiting outside but saw through the crack in the door," Thomas explained quickly, "but that's not the point. Before all that happened, we were talking and... he told me he came from Denver."

Ruth studied Thomas, working out whether he was joking. However, she knew Thomas wouldn't joke about something like this.

"How's that possible? Denver's a safe zone."

"He said neither of his parents had the Flare-"

"It might have been in the early stages?" Ruth suggested. "Nobody wants to admit their family has the Flare."

"Think about it Ruth. They were in Denver. There's no way they would have been let in if they were infected."

"So, they just took him from his family?" Ruth couldn't believe it. Actually, she could, she had just wished that WICKED had told _some_ truth. They had always said they took candidates from families with two sick parents and no one else to look after them. She should have known that was yet another lie.

"Threatened to shoot his dad apparently." Thomas shrugged, collapsing beside her on the bed, stretching his legs across her lap. "Is he right, Ruth? Would WICKED do that?"

Ruth chewed the inside of her cheek, not knowing what to say. Not that she needed to; Thomas knew. He didn't need her to confirm it.

Thomas let out a long, slow breath as he stared at the ceiling, "I hate this."

 _Me too, Thomas_ , her mind sighed, _me too._

* * *

 **Month thirteen of Maze Trials.**

It wasn't hard to notice something was wrong.

Ruth and Thomas had the same timetable that morning. Two hours in the observation room followed by two with the Psychs, writing up reports and analysing behaviour. Thomas was quieter than usual. Their conversations quickly dissipated as Thomas retreated into the depths of his mind, fists clenched.

Each time Ruth asked what was wrong, it was like popping a bubble; Thomas's agitated demeanour would vanish instantly. He'd offer a small smile and wave her away, insisting everything was fine.

Thomas was not a good liar.

It was only when lunch time rolled around that Ruth became any closer to solving the mystery. Ruth sat between Chuck and a boy named Leo, with Thomas opposite them. Chuck chirped happily as usual, Leo grinning at the small boy's jokes. Ruth smiled when they spoke directly to her, but otherwise she was occupied as she studied Thomas. He glared at his plate in frustration, as if trying to lift the food to his mouth without moving his hands.

Teresa joined them, taking her usual place next to Thomas and everyone hummed in greeting. Everyone except Thomas. He didn't even look up from the table, if anything, his foul mood grew.

Ruth looked at Teresa and nodded towards the sulking boy. Teresa responded with an indifferent shrug and Ruth's interest peaked.

Lover's quarrel.

She and Chuck often joked about Thomas and Teresa's relationship. The pair would never admit having feelings for the other, but Thomas did an awful job at hiding his. Teresa on the other hand, was much harder to read. Whilst Teresa may not even realise it herself, Ruth knew that deep down she cared. She was just too busy throwing herself into her work to even acknowledge how she felt about the boy.

In spite of their stubbornness to admit having, god forbid, _feelings_ , they never failed to look out for one another. If Teresa was upset, Thomas would be the first there, hugging her tightly. Whenever Thomas was in one of his quiet moods, over-analysing everything, Teresa would make as many lame jokes as possible until he cheered up.

Only right now, they were both silent.

Soon, Chuck and Leo noticed the tension and fell mute.

"Is everything okay?" Chuck finally asked.

"Why wouldn't it be?" Teresa replied, daring Chuck to continue.

"Um," Chuck's finger wagged awkwardly between her and Thomas, "you're both really quiet."

Teresa stared at Chuck for one long moment, "okay, I'm finished," she said, breaking her stare as she stood up from the table. Leaving her tray behind, she headed straight to the door without another word.

"Teresa wait!" Thomas spoke suddenly, bolting after her.

Ruth, Chuck and Leo watched their backs disappear through the doorway.

"They coming back?" Chuck asked.

"Doubt it." Ruth shook her head. Two hands, one on either side of her, simultaneously reached out for the muffins on the abandoned trays. "Really?" She raised her brows in disbelief. Slowly, the hands broke off some of the muffins, carefully placing the chunks on her tray.

"Much better."

Ruth didn't see Thomas or Teresa again for the rest of the day. She had medical tests and more work to do with the Psychs. Through all of it, her mind puzzled over what was going on between her friends.

She emerged from her bathroom in her pyjamas, rubbing at the ends of her wet hair with a towel. Hearing a soft knock at the door, she padded towards it.

"Can I come in?" Thomas leapt through the open doorway before Ruth could process what was happening.

"By all means." Ruth mumbled, dazed as she shut the door. Thomas was pacing across the length of the room and she eyed him warily.

"You missed dinner."

"Wasn't hungry." He answered bluntly, his strides continuing.

"You wanted to talk?" Ruth dropped her towel across the desk chair, crossing her arms as she gave Thomas her full attention.

"Yeah- but- ugh!" He jumped face first onto her bed, the springs shrieking in protest.

"Thomas," Ruth knelt beside the boy, "what's wrong?"

His answer, muffled by the pillow, was incomprehensible to Ruth.

"I can't hear you."

The boy twisted his head and the defeat in his expression made Ruth's heart twang.

"I think I figured it out."

"Figured what out?"

"Why you tried to stop them going in the Maze."

Ruth's heart stopped.

"You did?"

Thomas nodded, "I snuck a research tablet out the lab and went through the classified files."

Ruth didn't know what to say. Thomas knew. Would he want to stop the Maze Trials? Should she tell him about Dr Paige

"The worst part is that Teresa knew too," he mumbled, "and she didn't even try to do anything about it. It's like she doesn't hold it against them."

"Wait, what?" Ruth spat as shock flooded her veins. "Teresa _knew_?"

Ruth thought Teresa was better than that, surely she should have _some_ compassion. FIRE was barbaric, and Teresa _didn't_ blame WICKED? Her jaw clenched as she recalled Teresa's indifference to Thomas's behaviour throughout the day. She knew what was bothering him and had the nerve to act as though he was being dramatic.

Newt was Teresa's friend. Apparently, that didn't matter. Instead of making a stand, she defended the organisation that took away his immunity.

Thomas dragged himself into an upright position.

"I still can't believe it," he sighed, "they act all high and mighty, like they're a godsend, and they're the reason all this is happening!"

Ruth's thoughts screeched to a halt. What did he just say?

"Come again?"

"Well it's true!" Thomas exclaimed. "It's their fault and no one knows! They get ridiculous amounts of funding to fix their damn mistake, which they're doing an awful job at, so all that's _really_ happening is that the people who killed off nearly the whole population are being kept safe in this compound!" Rant at an end, he took a deep breath, unaware of the secret he'd just revealed to Ruth.

"WICKED..." Ruth tried to wrap around her head around what Thomas had told her, "WICKED caused the Flare?"

Thomas looked at her dumbfounded, his mouth opening and closing wordlessly.

"Thomas?" She said hesitantly.

"I thought you knew," he whispered.

"WICKED caused the Flare?" She asked again, she wouldn't- couldn't- believe it until he confirmed it.

Thomas gulped, "the old Chancellor, he helped oversee it. They created a small-scale virus that would...solve the problem of overpopulation, but then it mutated, and they couldn't control it anymore."

Why was it that Ruth kept uncovering more things about WICKED? Horrific things that screamed that WICKED was bad. Yet she was still here, working for them. Did Dr Paige know? Ruth couldn't allow the Maze Trials to continue. Her friends were trapped there, at the mercy of these insane people.

Thomas's eyes widened, realising what this meant, "they've done something _else_? If your freak-out at the start of the Trials wasn't because of that..."

"Yeah," Ruth got off the floor to sit next to him on the bed, "they did something else alright."

There was a beat of silence before Thomas tentatively asked, "Is it worse?"

 _Was_ it worse? Pushing humanity to the brink of extinction compared to eliminating the few survivors?

"Knowing what I do now..." Ruth answered. "It's so much worse."

* * *

A week later, clambering under her quilt, Ruth told Dr Buren what she had discovered.

 _You knew._ Ruth stated after her explanation was met with calm. She had wanted to spill everything she knew to Dr Buren as soon as she'd found out, however, she didn't know how to open the link herself and Dr Buren didn't open it often- only when she had something important to discuss. Surprisingly, it hadn't crossed her mind once that Dr Buren would already know about the true origin of the Flare.

 _You lashed out after you learned about FIRE,_ Dr Buren reminded, _WICKED barely believed you when you claimed to have had no help. If you suddenly knew all WICKED's secrets, there's no way they'd let that slide._

 _I wouldn't have told them I knew,_ Ruth argued, _not knowing what I do now, that we have a plan- or that we_ will _have a plan._

 _About that-_ Dr Buren began.

 _We have a plan?_ Ruth questioned hurriedly.

 _Not exactly..._ she trailed off before perking up, _but we have a step towards a plan._

Ruth rolled over in her bed, waiting for the woman to disclose the new development.

 _If we're to have any hope of rescuing the candidates from the Mazes, we're going to need someone on the inside to help._

Ruth stilled, _what are you saying?_

 _Ruth, I'm going to need you to talk to Newt._


	10. Chapter 9

**A/N: Thought I'd do a relatively speedy update to make up for the two months it took for the last one (...sorry again). I've also got a Wattpad account where this story is posted and it made it to the Wattys Longlist! For those of you that don't know, the Longlist contains 800 stories that made it to the next round of the 2018 Watty Awards out of about 150,000 entries so I am SUPER excited!**

 **Just a quick reminder before you read the chapter: Mary was the first to arrive in Group B via the Box, I introduced her at the end of Chapter 7. Enjoy! :)**

Chapter 9

 **Month fourteen of Maze Trials.**

 _Any news?_ Dr Buren enquired for the billionth time.

 _No,_ Ruth said irritably as she walked through the corridors. _Not since you asked me last night._

She'd been trying constantly to create a telepathic link between herself and Newt. So far, she had been unsuccessful. Dr Buren was as impatient as she was for things to move forward. The woman badgered her whenever she had the chance. Each time Ruth felt like more of a disappointment. This was the one thing she could do to help, and she was failing miserably.

Not only did Newt not respond to her attempts at communicating, he made no indication of hearing her either.

Ruth shoved open the door to the Group B observation room, Dr Buren's presence sweeping from her mind.

Rachel was perched by the main display and a couple of Psychs were scattered around the room, making note of various readings.

"Aris not in here today?" Ruth asked as she plopped down beside by Rachel.

The girl shrugged, "he said he might be along later, but I have a feeling he'll get caught up in the labs."

Ruth nodded. She soon found herself scrolling through the beetle blade cameras when Rachel spoke up.

"She's in the Gardens."

Ruth clicked onto the camera showing the one of the fields. Beth was crouched by a sniffling girl as she wrapped her ankle in bandages.

"It's okay," Beth soothed the young blonde, "the pain should fade soon."

"What have you done now, Ros?" Mary called as she jogged over.

Since arriving in the Glade, Mary's faded ginger hair had grown significantly, which had resulted in her cropped curls becoming an untameable frizz. The nervous girl she had been quickly vanished as she befriended Beth, the two girls becoming as close as the twins had once been. Ruth understood that Beth couldn't remember her, and was glad her sister had someone, but the knowledge that she'd been replaced still twanged at her heart.

Mary looked down at Ros who was trying to hide her tear-stained face with her hair.

"Rolled over on her ankle," Beth answered, shooting Mary a smile, "nothing too bad, just need to wait for the swelling to go down."

"Do you need some help getting her back to the Huts?" The redhead offered.

"You not needed here?"

"Nah, not much left to do for the day," Mary assured, "besides, my back is killing. You've got to save me."

Beth laughed as she taped the end of the bandage.

"Come on then," she said to Ros, "can't have you sitting here all night."

Mary and Beth helped Ros stand and the girl stifled a whimper. Looping each of Ros's arms over their necks, the three of them awkwardly hobbled back to the Huts- small shacks where the Group B Gladers slept, as opposed to the large Homestead that Group A had built.

As they walked, Ruth studied her sister. Beth, unlike Mary, had kept her hair short, the ends dusting her collarbones. Beth had also kept her fringe and Ruth followed suit despite finding it irritating. It seemed silly, but it was another link to her twin and it made her feel closer. It had been Beth who wanted a fringe in the first place, then Ruth suddenly decided she also had to have one. The bickering that followed... Ruth pitied their mother.

When Dr Buren explained the telepathy plan to Ruth, to try and communicate with Newt, Ruth had one question.

What about Group B?

The woman had explained that communicating using the implants would be much easier with someone you had an emotional connection with. For Group B, the obvious option would be Beth. However, WICKED was wary of Ruth after her incident at the start of the Maze Trials. They would be expecting her to try something and it was evident that if she were to try and get a message to anyone in either Maze, or break anyone out, Beth would be her priority. Which meant WICKED was keeping a very close eye on Beth, and if anything was amiss, WICKED would quickly discover the truth and any hope of breaking the candidates out would be gone.

Communicate with Newt. Focus on Group A. Make sure they had a plan that would work, then involve Group B.

She could see Dr Buren's point, but that didn't mean she was happy about it.

* * *

 **Month fifteen of Maze Trials**.

 _Newt_ , Ruth tried as she stared into the mirror, water dripping down her face, _Newt, can you hear me?_

She was yelling into an abyss; nothing but silence answered her.

 _Newt, I can help you all escape._ Her voice echoed in her own head and her reflection stared back at her in disappointment. _I need you to give me a sign, show me you can hear me._

Countless times she'd gone through this mind-numbing routine, each attempt making her more frustrated and desperate than the last. She'd had enough practice with Dr Buren to know she wasn't doing anything _wrong_. She just wasn't doing it quite right. Without his memories, the process proved a little trickier. He had no knowledge of the implants, meaning his brain would try even harder to shut out any foreign presence. More so than Ruth's mind had with Dr Buren. Not to mention that Newt was being heavily monitored in the Maze, Ruth didn't want to harshly shove her way into his head. She had to be slow and gentle. It would take time.

At least that's what Dr Buren told her.

She roughly grabbed a towel, rubbing her face.

 _Goddammit Newt just listen to me!_

She wasn't expecting an answer exactly. She was banging at a door, waiting for him to open it and let her in.

He didn't.

 _Fine!_ She slammed her hand against the edge of the sink. _You go ahead and enjoy Frypan's ruddy bacon you get every single day. I'll stop bothering someone who's clearly quite happy where they are!_

She stomped down to the Group A observation room. There were only two people there: Dr Buren and a bald Psych who Ruth guessed was in his fifties.

As Ruth entered the room, the man looked up, nodding at her before returning to his work. Dr Buren, on the other hand, beamed.

"Good morning, Ruth. You're here early." The woman voiced, whilst asking in Ruth's mind, _Any luck?_ Ruth shrugged, she was sick and tired of her constant pestering.

"Wasn't hungry," she replied as her mind gave a blunt reply, _No_.

"It's good to see someone's eager to work," Dr Buren's wide smile didn't falter, "we need more of that optimism around here. Isn't that right, Miles?"

The pair of them glanced to the man working by one of the screens.

"Uhuh," he hummed absentmindedly, eyes still fixed to the screen.

Dr Buren gritted her teeth and Ruth had to stop herself from smirking. Strolling to the screens, Ruth searched for the boy who had unintentionally infuriated her.

Newt, having finished breakfast, was now on his way to the Maze doors with Minho at his side. They were discussing which section each would take. Ruth could tell they were both losing hope, but neither was ready to admit that aloud just yet.

Ruth overrode one of the beetle blades, moving it forward after the boys. Minho caught sight of movement and his gaze dropped to the silver creature scuttling across the dirt.

"Mini Shank's back." He sniggered at the surprise in Newt's eyes, "your trusty sidekick has returned."

Newt buried the brief flash of delight, a glum expression taking its place, "it's getting a little annoying to be honest."

Ruth ignored that remark and kept following them.

Minho arched a brow at Newt, "yeah you seem totally sick of it, not like you smiled when you saw it or anything."

"I mean," Newt kicked at a tuft of grass, "it doesn't do anything."

"Did you expect it to start talking to you?" Minho teased. "Secret conversations between best buds?"

"You know that's not what I mean." Newt shot him a look. They walked a few more paces before Newt spoke again. "These things are everywhere but for some reason this is the only one that comes this close, and it only does it to _me_. I just thought..."

"It would help some way?" Minho suggested.

"Exactly," Newt said as they reached the Maze doors, "it's the one thing in this place that doesn't fit the pattern. But we've been here over a year and still not one bloody thing has changed and I'm- I'm _sick_ of it."

Minho frowned at the distant look in Newt's eyes, "hey," he placed a hand on the boy's shoulder and Newt snapped out of his daze, "you okay?"

"Yeah, I just didn't get much sleep," Newt waved away his friend's concerns, "you think I'd be used to Frypan's snores by now. I'll be fine, see you later."

He took off down one of the Maze corridors, Minho watching after him.

Minho peered at the beetle blade at his feet, "keep an eye on him for me Mini Shank, not that you'll have a problem with that." Chuckling to himself, he raced off into the Maze.

Ruth stared at the screen, suddenly feeling numb and empty. She hadn't really been angry at Newt; it was in no way his fault. If he knew what she was trying to do, he would try unbelievably hard to make it work. He _wanted_ to get out of the Maze, if he was hearing any of her messages, he would latch onto them.

No, she was angry at herself. He needed her, and she couldn't help him.

"Hey Ruth!"

Ruth swivelled around and grinned as Chuck pranced into the room, Thomas behind him.

"Hey guys, I didn't think you'd be in here this morning." She switched the beetle blade back to automatic mode and the metal creature crawled towards the Homestead. Part of her wondered if Dr Buren would comment on Newt's behaviour. However, the connection was firmly shut and when she glanced to where the woman had been, she spotted the tail of Dr Buren's lab coat disappear through a door at the back of the room.

"We weren't supposed to be, but this guy's very persuasive," Thomas ruffled Chuck's hair, "so I figured we'd pop in for half an hour before I go prep Leo for tomorrow."

Ruth nodded, "is he nervous?"

It was a stupid question, of course he was nervous. What she was really asking, was how willingly he'd go into the Maze. Some candidates were petrified by the thought of forgetting everything, their families included. They'd lash out and the doctors would have to put them under in order to carry out medical tests before Insertion.

"Surprisingly okay," Thomas answered, "he's looking forward to it, in a way. Says he doesn't _want_ to remember his parents, what happened to them... he'd rather not know."

That struck a chord. For months afterwards, Ruth thought about those words. She'd never looked at it that way and she was surprised Leo had.

She thought about Newt's face the day he went into the Maze, when she'd given him and the others quite the fright. Would it have been the right thing to tell him then? Telling him he had once been immune? No, unless she could fix it, it would only cause him more pain.

Maybe Leo was right, sometimes it was better not to know.

* * *

 **Month eighteen of Maze Trials.**

"We were thinking of going outside," Thomas said, swallowing his food, "just for a bit."

Ruth raised her brow, "you got permission?"

"I spoke to Dr Paige," Teresa replied from next to Thomas, "we'll have guards. She didn't seem to have a problem."

"Of course she wouldn't if _you_ asked her." Ruth muttered.

"Will you come?" Chuck looked up at her hopefully as he tugged on her arm.

Ruth shrugged. "It's too dark, we won't be able to see anything."

"First of all, they have lights outside," Thomas pointed out. "Second, doesn't matter if there's not much to look at. You can't tell me you don't miss fresh air."

Ruth's fork clattered against her empty plate and she rubbed at her eyes. "But it's late," she yawned, "certainly too late for this one."

"I'm not tired though!" Chuck whined.

"Come on Ruth," Thomas pleaded, "we don't know when we'll get the chance again."

Truthfully, Ruth was exhausted, far past the point of caring about a trip to the outdoors. Half a year ago she would have leapt at the chance, aching for the opportunity to clear her mind. Now, however, she knew too well that fresh air couldn't fix her problems. The constant stress and worry and _fear_ , in a twisted way, she needed it. It acted as a reminder for her to keep pushing through, to keep working. Relaxing for an hour, pretending to live in a different world, it would be more difficult to drag herself back to reality and refocus her mind.

The thought of untangling the ball of tension she'd become, feeling _free_... well, it scared her. If she went out there, she could feel happy, _content_ , and she hated that. She didn't deserve to feel that way. Not while so many were suffering, not just in the Mazes but across the entire world.

"I'm good," she gave a small smile, "thanks though."

Teresa and Thomas exchanged a look and finally Thomas sighed, "suit yourself." He got up from the table, Chuck and Teresa following him from the cafeteria.

Ruth glanced around the quiet room. Only a few boys still lingered, the rest now residing within the Maze. Her eyes focused on one of the boys. He and his friend murmured dully to each other. Staring tiredly at the scraps on his plate, he shoved a lock of dark hair from his eyes. Suddenly, his gaze shifted upwards, meeting hers.

 _"Ruth?" A soft voice snapped her from her daze._

 _"Sorry," she glanced up from her plate and gave Newt a sheepish smile, "what were you saying?"_

 _"We were talking about douchebag Billy." Minho smirked at his friend._

 _"No, we weren't." Newt shot him a look._

 _"Who's that?" She asked the pair._

 _"No one." Newt answered quickly. Minho scoffed._

 _"He's the handsome devil that has a thing for you." Minho answered._

 _Ruth's eyes widened. "What?" She looked to Newt and saw he was glaring at the amused Minho._

 _"Yeah we heard him talking about you yesterday, said he was gonna_ make a move _," Minho snorted._

 _Ruth scowled, "did he now?" The cheek of some people. Just because he hadn't seen a girl in years, did_ not _mean she was an object to pine over. Undoubtedly, he had also considered pursuing Teresa, though she probably shut him down with one look. That girl could be terrifying when she wanted to be._

 _She noticed Newt's eyes were glued to the table as he fiddled with his hands. Anger sliced through her as she realised what was wrong. "Which one is he?" She asked sharply._

 _Newt seemed to shrink into himself, misunderstanding her question, and Ruth's jaw clenched. Nobody was allowed to make Newt feel like that, as if he was anything less than perfect._

 _"He's over there," Minho pointed to a table on their right, "dark hair, radiates handsome and douche in equal amounts."_

 _Ruth spotted the one, he was busy chortling at his friend's joke. She narrowed her eyes as she scrutinised him. Smooth, tanned skin, a strong jawline and short hair that couldn't help but form soft curls. Even at about fourteen, he seemed like the kind of guy that, had they all been in school, would have had a string of girls swooning over him. He also seemed like the overconfident, arrogant sort whom it was painful to endure a conversation with._

 _The boy beside him gave him a nudge, nodding in her direction. Billy looked up. As their eyes met an egotistical smirk crossed his lips._

 _She hated him already._

 _Breaking their stare, Ruth moved her hand against Newt's cheek, gently turning his head towards her. He hesitantly met her gaze, a pink tinge to his cheeks. How on earth could this boy think she would want anyone other than him? Before she could allow the room of people to dissuade her, she leaned forward, pressing her lips to his._

 _He relaxed against her, and her mouth tugged into a smile. Hearing Minho gag, she pulled back, sticking her tongue out at him._

 _"Keep it PG kids," Minho scrunched his nose but sported a large grin. "You put Billy in his place, alright, wow I've never seen him look so grumpy." Minho commented as he looked over at the other table. Ruth, however, gazed up at Newt, glad to see the downcast boy was now glowing as he beamed at her. She leaned in, towards his ear._

 _"I'm yours," she reassured, squeezing his hand._

Billy quickly looked back to his friend, not making any sort of acknowledgment toward her. Her heart panged at her recollection of Newt and she stared at her hands that rested on the table. Absentmindedly, she traced her finger across her palm, remembering the feeling of his hand in hers.

She looked up again, at the near empty room. Everyone was drained of energy. Even Billy's conceited nature had vanished, leaving a faded image of the boy he once was. It was the same for all of them. They might not have known exactly what was coming, but they did know it wasn't good. Their families were gone, and now, their friends were too.

The bleak atmosphere was a heavy blanket and it was suffocating. Unable to bear it any longer, Ruth marched from the room, nobody glancing her way.

She wandered aimlessly along the corridors, expecting her mind to be full of rampaging thoughts, but there was nothing. Just a chaotic swarm of emotions in her chest, too many to decipher, along with one single word.

Newt.

It cried out in her mind, and it _hurt_. It hurt to think his name, it hurt to remember him, it hurt to know how bleak his future seemed.

"Ruth?"

She blinked away the tears stinging her eyes, seeing Teresa with Thomas at her side.

"What's up?" She forced a smile, "sick of the outdoors already?" Neither of them returned her smile.

"We saw Randall," Thomas's voice cracked, "I hadn't seen him in a while, I thought... I don't know, that he'd been busy with other work? But, erm," Thomas sighed, "turns out he was infected."

"What!" This was not good. Her mind flashed back to the meeting over a year ago, before the Maze Trials. Chancellor Anderson had informed them about a Crank on the loose and then made the decision to reduce the Maze Trials to two years. She hadn't heard much about the situation since then, she thought they had it under control.

Evidently not.

"Can you go keep an eye on Chuck?" Teresa asked her. "He's asleep in Thomas's room."

"Yeah sure," Ruth nodded then her mind caught up, "wait, where are you two going?"

"We're making sure everything's being handled," Teresa answered swiftly, "seeing if there's anything we need to do."

"I'll come with you."

"No," Teresa said firmly, "we can handle it, and someone needs to be there in case Chuck wakes up."

"But I should-"

"Please, Ruth." Teresa implored.

"He saw him, Ruth," Thomas explained, "he saw Randall. Poor kid's scared to death, I was surprised he managed to get to sleep at all."

Ruth saw the pleading look in Thomas's eyes and gave in. "Okay, but if something happens you need to come and tell me."

"Of course." Teresa said, clutching Thomas's hand as she towed him down the corridor.

Ruth watched them go, finding herself unconvinced by Teresa's promise.

She had a very bad feeling about this.

* * *

The next day Ruth noticed Thomas and Teresa were both extraordinarily quiet. She saw them for breakfast, neither of them saying anything about what they had found out. After Chuck had gone to class, she pushed them for information, but they wouldn't say one damn thing. Frustrated with the pair of them, she decided to spend the day with Aris and Rachel, only to find that they were also behaving peculiarly.

She mentioned Randall to them, noticing how they both stiffened. Aris recovered first, only saying that they had been told about the incident by Dr Paige. Nothing else was said but Ruth _knew_ they were leaving something out.

No one told her anything. Gradually, each of them seemed to get over whatever had happened. Teresa continued to work just as hard, if anything, she tried harder. She put more hours in than before and spent less and less time with Ruth and Thomas.

Rachel and Aris, on the other hand, were brought closer. Ruth knew that they had each lost a sibling to the Flare and figured that they must remind each other of the person they lost. Not that Ruth minded, it was good to have someone you could confide in. Although, when Thomas also started distancing himself, it left Ruth feeling very alone.

He hardly ever came to the observation room anymore and was constantly wrapped up in his thoughts. The only time the old Thomas emerged was when Chuck was feeling down. He would talk animatedly, waving his hands. He'd crack jokes with a wide grin on his face until Chuck cheered up. Ruth could tell it was false, Thomas's bubbly demeanour. He just wanted Chuck to be happy. Thomas loved that kid like a brother.

She couldn't understand what had happened- what her friends knew- but she did detect a difference in the compound. There were faces, WICKED personnel, that she'd grown used to seeing every day or so. Faces that she hadn't seen in a while. She'd thought nothing of it, assuming they were busy with another of the many tasks they were assigned. Then one day, it struck her.

She hadn't seen them since the incident.

* * *

 **Month nineteen of Maze Trials.**

Alone in the observation room, Ruth hid in the corner of the Homestead in the form a beetle blade.

 _That's right,_ she tried to communicate as Newt let out a soft groan, _rise and shine, sleepyhead_.

He sighed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, making no indication that he had heard her.

Not for the first time, a sliver of disappointment crept over Ruth. Surely she should have gotten some sort of reaction by now. She shook herself from the niggling worry in the back of her head. Moping wouldn't solve anything.

Newt's eyes flitted to the sleeping Minho in the bed next to his. It was one of the rare occasions the boy was silent, and Newt found himself smiling at his friend.

Minho wasn't one of those people that looked utterly tranquil when asleep. He was flopped on his stomach with one arm reaching around to his back. His face was smushed against the other, a small trail of drool slipping from his open mouth.

Ruth really wished she could tease Minho about this.

 _He's such a beauty isn't he,_ she smiled to herself.

Newt grabbed a shirt off the floor. Balling it up, he pelted it at his friend, laughing when he moaned in protest.

"You slinthead." Minho murmured, eyes still shut.

"Come on," Newt smirked, "just because I'm not running today doesn't mean you can lie in."

Eventually, Minho dragged himself out of bed, others also waking up. Ruth followed them to breakfast at a distance. As Minho shovelled food into his mouth, he began to wake up from his exhausted state.

 _It's like they made you forget your manners too,_ Ruth grimaced at the crumbs of bacon around Minho's mouth. She suddenly remembered Thomas's eating habits. _Never mind._

The other runners were sitting with them, Leo amongst them. They snickered at Minho's jokes as he poked fun at the moody Gally sitting at another table.

"He's really not that bad," Leo insisted, "he's nice enough to me."

"We've known Gally a lot longer than you," Minho pointed out, "and I can assure you, he is the grouchiest shank you will ever meet."

"But, he's one of us." Newt admitted.

"That he is." Minho agreed, holding up his cup in a mock toast. "To us, grouchy shanks n' all."

"To us." The others cheered with silly grins.

 _To us,_ Ruth hummed before chuckling, _Minho's so full of klunk._

"Don't you shanks have somewhere to be?" Alby gave the group a pointed look as he walked by, a large crate in his arms. Making half-hearted protests, the boys headed over to the map room to collect their things for running in the Maze.

"Need some help?" Newt moved to grip the crate. Sharing the weight, the pair shuffled across the Glade. "What's in here anyway?" Newt grunted as he adjusted his grip.

"Tools," Alby said, "for the Slicers and Track-hoes."

Reaching the Blood House, they spotted Winston putting feed in the chicken coop.

"Hey Winston," Newt called and the Slicer looked up with a grin, "got a present for you."

Alby soon left, Newt offering to take the remainder of the tools to Zart in the Gardens.

"You sure?" Alby checked.

"Yeah, only a couple left, not too heavy," Newt assured, "you get on with whatever else you've got to do."

"Thanks, Newt." He said, jogging off to another part of the Glade.

Newt stayed with Winston for some time, talking about nothing in particular. It was one of those light-hearted conversations where you could just _enjoy_ yourself, Ruth hadn't had one of those in a long time.

When he took the tools to Zart, the same thing happened. Laughing hysterically at the other's jokes as if life was fine and _normal_. A sense of calm washed over Ruth. He was okay, as happy as he could be when trapped in a Maze. It was all she could ask for given the circumstances.

Trailing after Newt, Ruth saw him collapse onto a bench in the Deadheads, surrounded by the bare trees. He made no sign of moving anytime soon so Ruth chose this time to move closer. The quiet tapping of metal limbs alerted Newt to the beetle blade's presence, although he didn't outwardly acknowledge it.

 _What are you doing here, huh?_ Ruth peered at him curiously. Newt stared straight ahead, deep in thought. The beetle blade stood by the boy's feet, waiting for him to move elsewhere.

Half an hour. That's how long he sat there in the silence, immersed in the chaos of his mind.

Ruth was glad when he stood up, though her relief faltered when he headed into the small forest towards the cemetery.

 _This doesn't seem like such a good idea._ Ruth warned him. Despite knowing he couldn't hear her, it was oddly comforting talking to him like that.

Arriving at the wooden posts that acted as makeshift gravestones, Newt sunk to his knees. He stared ahead bleakly. Ruth saw tears in his eyes.

 _Newt,_ she moved the beetle blade in front of him, _it's not your fault. Any of it._

He didn't even look down at the metal creature, he was lost in the battle his mind was having.

It was horrific, all of it. Arriving in a strange place with no recollection of your past and no way to escape, not knowing what your future could hold. Stuck in the present, the day being repeated over and over again. The only thing you had to keep you going was your friends and even they weren't safe.

Newt was seeking answers to questions he didn't understand. He couldn't begin to fathom what it was his mind ached to know. All he knew was the Maze, the Glade, and his friends. He felt he had let them down, that he was to blame, that he could have done more.

But Ruth knew, there was nothing he could have done. No matter what he had done, the outcome would have been the same. WICKED always got what they wanted.

 _I wish I could make things okay,_ she soothed, hoping that somehow, deep down, Newt could hear her. _I'm trying, Newt, I swear. I need you to hear me. I can help. Just... hear me, please._

Her heart caught in her throat as Newt looked down, straight into the beetle blade's eye.

"Leave. Me. Alone." He spat, reaching forward to bat the thing away. The beetle blade sensed the incoming hand and initiated its defence protocol. Hissing, Newt drew his hand back as a small blade nicked his skin. He stared at the blood beading on his knuckle, mesmerised for a moment. He then curled his hand into a fist as his whirring mind made a decision.

Ruth rushed the beetle blade forward, chasing him as he stormed out of the forest, past some of the Gladers and into the Maze.

Her heart thudded as she tried to figure out what he was doing. When he had looked at the beetle blade, she thought for a second that he had heard her, but quickly realised he was just angry at the presence that followed him around. Newt knew the person controlling the beetle blade was with the people that put him in the Maze and currently, he hated all of them.

But she'd be damned if she was going to let him wander into the Maze alone when he was in such a state.

His strides were determined, as if pausing for even a second would change his mind. He knew where he was going, he was familiar with this section of the Maze. Reaching his destination, he pressed his hands into the thick ivy that ran up one of the walls. He craned his neck, gazing up at the false sky.

Then he started climbing.

 _Newt,_ Ruth said, worried, _what are you doing?_ The beetle blade began scaling the wall alongside him.

He climbed further.

 _Stop it._ Her panic rang clear as she spoke. _You're scaring me._

He couldn't hear her, but she didn't know what else to do. Part of her knew what he was planning, but a larger part tried to deny it. Newt wouldn't… he _couldn't._

The ivy didn't go all the way to the top, it stopped a few meters below the cavern ceiling, although to Newt, the wall continued much further, tickling the sky. Newt climbed over halfway up the length of ivy before stopping, breathing heavily as he clutched at the vines.

He was too high. Far too high.

He needed to get down.

 _Go back to the Glade._ Ruth begged, a sob caught in her throat. _Everything's going to be okay, Newt, I promise. Just go back._

Newt looked directly into the eye of the beetle blade, and her heart stopped.

"I don't know who you people are, but I hope you're happy. I hope you get a real buggin' kick out of watching us suffer." Newt gritted his teeth, "This is _my_ life, not yours. And it's my choice as to how it ends." Newt snarled. "You can all die and go to hell. This is on you."

 _Newt, please._

He clamped his eyes shut and Ruth barely heard the whisper from his lips.

"You're right. Everything _will_ be okay."

Shoving himself away from the wall, Newt let go of the vines.

And he fell.

"Newt!" Ruth screamed aloud, shooting from her seat. The shriek seemed to echo, and tears blurred her vision.

Then she heard it. The most heart-breaking sound she would ever hear.

The sound of Newt's body, hitting concrete.


	11. Chapter 10

**A/N: Hi everyone! I want to apologise for taking this long to upload. I've been ridiculously busy with uni and then I got out of the flow of writing- it was really difficult to get back into it and I didn't want to just post something halfhearted that would just ruin the story. Hope you forgive me, particularly for leaving the last chapter where I did. There's some Newt fluff in this chapter so hope you all enjoy :)**

* * *

There was one thing Ruth was certain of in that moment.

Nothing had ever hurt so much.

"Newt!" Her body heaved as she cried out. Her wobbling legs gave way and she dropped onto the seat, curling into herself. Pure agony. It was an icy blade tearing through her chest.

Newt's last words before he… they replayed in her mind.

 _You're right. Everything will be okay_.

He was replying to her. He had _heard_ her. Why hadn't he shown that he had heard her!

Why!

 _Why?_

Then the truth barrelled into her. He'd spoken into the beetle blade cameras initially, but then _those_ words… he whispered them to _himself_.

Because that's where he thought the words had come from.

His mind.

He thought he was hearing voices. Newt had thought he was going mad. And it was her fault.

Her fault.

A scream erupted from the camera feed. "I hate you, I hate you!" Ruth's head snapped up and she rubbed away the glossy film from her eyes. Newt was clutching his leg, cursing the sky. Hope shot through Ruth.

He wasn't dead.

The spike of relief dissipated rapidly. Yes, he wasn't dead.

But he wanted to be.

Eyes burning, Ruth shoved away the urge to sob and wallow in her grief. She couldn't leave him there. She had to act. Quickly. Sniffling, she overrode one of the beetle blades that was crawling around the Glade. Alby was walking around by himself and Ruth took this chance to lurch towards him.

Alby spotted the beetle blade and leapt into the air.

"Get off me!" He tried to shake the creature off his leg, but the metal limbs clung on. When the shaking slowed, the beetle blade swiftly scuttled onto the ground and towards the Maze door. Ruth spun the small machine around to look at Alby.

"What the shuck do you want!" Alby exclaimed, irritated. In answer, the beetle blade continued towards the Maze Door. She heard Alby's hesitant footsteps quicken into a run to keep up. He didn't know what it was the beetle blade wanted, he was merely intrigued by the strange behaviour.

 _Ruth!_ Dr Buren shouted. _Yo_ _u've got to get out of there!_

 _He jumped!_ Ruth cried out as she controlled the beetle blade, her anguish ringing loudly. _He thought the Maze made him mad. He wanted to die as himself, on his terms, before it got worse. It's my fault!_

 _Ruth, I am so so sorry. But it's not your fault, it's WICKED's, and right now you have to listen to me!_

Now, Alby could hear Newt screaming in agony. "Newt!" He called back frantically. "Newt!"

 _I've got to help him find Newt._ Ruth insisted. _He can't be alone, he can't be alone!_

 _Ruth, WICKED_ know. _They know what you've been trying to do, they knew the whole time. Now that this…_ variable _has run its course they're ready to step in. They want to know who helped you learn how to do it. You've got to get out of there!_

 _And go where?_ Ruth spat, still guiding Alby. Newt's limp figure came into view and Alby shot to his side.

 _I can get you into the Maze,_ Ruth froze as Dr Buren continued, _they won't want to interfere with the trials further. You'd be safe in there. But you have to go, NOW!_

Ruth shot out of the door, the words carving into her brain.

She was going into the Maze.

Ruth screeched to a halt as she spotted WICKED personnel turning the corner. As they clocked Ruth, they called out and raced towards her.

 _Back-up, back-up! Other way!_

Ruth dashed back the way she came, skidding around corner after corner until she reached the lift.

 _You have to get down to the basement_ , Dr Buren said and Ruth hopped inside, _I'll override the Box and send you up._

Ruth jabbed the button repeatedly, urging the doors to close. Right at the last second, a figure slipped into the lift.

"Teresa," Ruth relaxed as she realised who it was.

"Ruth, what's going on?" The girl asked frantically. "Why's everyone searching for you?"

 _When you get there, there'll be two doors, you want the furthest one_ Dr Buren commanded, _let me know when you're in._

"You can't let them follow me." Ruth urged Teresa. "You've got to hold them off."

"Why? What are you doing!"

The lift reached the basement and Ruth shot Teresa a pleading look before dashing into the narrow room.

Along the right wall were a series of panels and screens, and opposite those were the two doors Dr Buren had referred to- the furthest of which was open. As she neared it, she spotted the bold letter painted next to the open doorway and jerked to a halt.

"No, no, no." She murmured to herself as the _B_ stared back at her. _I'm not going to Group B!_ She yelled to Dr Buren. _I can't! I have to go to Group A!_

As much as Ruth desperately wanted to see Beth after all these years, she couldn't. Not now. Not knowing that Newt was out there, in so much _pain_. She needed to be there for him. Even if she couldn't tell him everything about WICKED, she could tell him that he wasn't mad.

The thought of being sent into Group B and seeing Lizzy, made her sick to her stomach. Ruth had _promised_ her she'd take care of Newt. She was supposed to be there for him. Not only had Ruth failed him, she had been the _cause_ of his depression.

Lizzy's rage would be preferable to the ignorance Sonya would greet her with. Guilt gnawed away at Ruth's chest and she needed someone to lash out at her, needed someone to scream at her for what she had done, but Sonya didn't know Newt- she wouldn't do any of those things. She would look at Ruth with the same confusion that all the other girls would. Each of them baffled by the fact she was a mirror image of Beth.

There would be no hatred or grief in Sonya's eyes, but Ruth could imagine the wails of a girl who remembered her brother, and she couldn't bear it.

"Ruth!" Teresa snapped. "What's wrong!"

Startled, Ruth's eyes abruptly focused on Teresa who was watching her worriedly. Her mind replayed the event that had occurred not even fifteen minutes ago, Newt's screams echoing endlessly. Feeling her eyes welling up, Ruth vigorously shook her head. She couldn't say it.

Teresa planted her hands on Ruth's shoulders. "Tell me."

"It's Newt-" She whimpered, not knowing how to possibly explain.

 _Ruth, you've got to hurry up._ Dr Buren pressed.

 _Open the door to Group A._ Ruth ordered.

 _Ruth I don't think that's a good idea_. Dr Buren warned. _Who knows how they'll react to a girl appearing in the Glade?_

 _Open. The. Door._ Ruth repeated.

 _I can't just-_

 _Open it!_

Ruth could sense Dr Buren's resolve disappear as she realised they didn't have time to argue. The door to Group B slid closed just as the one to Group A opened. Tearing herself from Teresa's grip, Ruth sprinted through the doorway and it shut behind her.

She was in The Box.

Metal grating glinted in the dim light, encapsulating her in the cage. Boxes sat in the corner- supplies to be delivered when The Box next went up. Glancing up, all that could be seen was a seemingly endless abyss, poorly lit by small lights that stretched up the walls. Ruth suddenly felt trapped, beginning to panic as the Box shuddered into motion. She dropped to her knees, trying to keep her breaths even.

Closing her eyes, she was struck by a moment of clarity and relief began to soothe the worry.

She had done it. The moment she had longed for since the Maze Trials began was within her grasp. Every beat of her heart brought her closer to seeing her friends, to seeing Newt. She couldn't believe it.

The smooth ascension jerked to a halt and Ruth's heart did a flip as her eyes shot open. The box remained still and Ruth was swallowed by agonising silence.

 _Ruth…_ Dr Buren said shakily and Ruth knew something bad had happened. _They've overridden the controls. I can't do anything without giving away that it's me-_

Suddenly, Ruth's stomach dropped as the Box plummeted, a shrill scream escaping her. Fingers clutching at the grating beneath her, she squeezed her eyes shut, wishing for it to stop.

Then there was a bang, and Ruth's unconscious body lay limp on the floor of the Box.

* * *

There was no brief bliss when Ruth awoke. No moment of peace. The second she slipped back into consciousness, her whole body knew something bad had happened. Her muscles ached and her heart wrenched in her chest. Then her mind caught up, details of previous events slotting into place, and Ruth wanted to collapse into sleep once more.

She heard the click of a door and her eyes cracked open, unable to fight the curiosity.

Dr Paige.

She stared at Ruth with a softness in her eyes that would have fooled any other. Ruth, however, was too familiar with the act for it to phase her.

They weren't in Ruth's bedroom, nor was it one she recognised. Four large screens surrounded her, covering the entirety of the walls, although all they currently showed was the WICKED logo. Ruth, who was slumped on the concrete floor, sat upright, drawing her knees to her chest as she glowered at Dr Paige.

"Ruth," Dr Paige spoke at last, "I understand how much you must be hurting." Ruth's eyes flickered to the floor, unable to bear the sight of Dr Paige as she lied so easily. "None of us wanted that to happen to Newt. No one could have predicted what he was about to do…"

Ruth didn't make a sound. Inside her head swirled shouts and cries, calling WICKED out on the truth, Newt's own screams entangled in the uproar.

"I'm not sure how much you know," Dr Paige sighed, "but it's more than we've told you. What you did to Newt… communicating with him, we never taught you how to do that. Now hopefully you'll understand why." A spike of guilt stabbed at Ruth but still she refused to acknowledge the woman's words. "But Ruth, we need to know who told you to do it. This person who is clearly trying to ruin what we've _all_ been working so hard to achieve.

Newt will be fine, in time, but he could have _died_ Ruth. Whoever you've been talking to, they're the reason he almost died. They have to be stopped Ruth, don't you see?"

A whole minute of silence passed.

"When you decide to do the right thing, let me know."

As Dr Paige left, the screens came to life, and Ruth was submerged in Newt's cries.

"It hurts Alby, it hurts so bloody much! Make it stop, make it stop." He pleaded.

"I know Newt, I know," Alby soothed, "Clint's gone to find more painkillers, it'll stop hurting soon."

Ruth glanced up. It was the same video feed on each screen. Newt was writhing on a bed, his leg wrapped in bandages, hiding the severity of the wound. Alby gripped Newt's hand so tightly, trying to hide how much it pained him to see his friend like this- to hear his friend _begging_ him to take the pain away. Ruth and Alby both knew Newt was asking for more than painkillers.

"What do we tell people?" Jeff asked from the doorway he was blocking.

"Nothing." Alby grunted. "This stays between us."

"People are going to ask…"

"Then we tell them to mind their own shucking business!"

Jeff knew better than to reply. So he stayed quiet, watching helplessly as Alby whispered comforting words to Newt.

Ruth knew WICKED was observing her. She couldn't let her despair show. So she sat there, listening to Newt's moans of pain, for _hours_.

* * *

 _Her whole body thrummed with the anticipation of seeing him again. It had been three days since she last saw him, three days since their kiss._

 _Ruth didn't know how things would change between them. Had he told the others what had happened? Teresa had bombarded her with questions the day after it had happened, Ruth's only reply had been the furious blush on her cheeks._

 _She was on her way to the maintenance room alone; Thomas and Teresa had both pulled out last minute which immediately made Ruth suspicious. Reaching the door, she pushed it open to find Newt sitting there, Alby, Chuck and Minho nowhere to be seen._

 _"I see your lot backed out too." Newt cracked a smile._

 _"What are the odds?" Ruth smiled back, her heart doing frantic somersaults. Was Newt just as nervous as she was? He didn't seem like it. Did he not understand the effect he had on her? How could he just sit there, so calm and relaxed?_

 _"I'm sure it was purely coincidental," he patted the floor beside him, making Ruth realise she was just standing there like an idiot. He must've been thinking she was acting weirdly. Was she making things awkward? Chastising herself, Ruth moved next to Newt. Immediately, he took her hand and her heart leapt into her throat._

 _"Chuck's started doing this thing," the corners of his mouth tugged upwards, "he'll mimic everything Minho does. Minho pushes his hair back," Newt ran his hand through his hair, ruffling it and Ruth bit the inside of her cheek. "Chuck'll do the same. Minho rolls his eyes, Chuck rolls his. At first it was just because he wanted to act 'cool like Minho', but now it's just because it annoys the idiot so bloody much."_

 _"I'll have to remember that trick for the next time Minho gets on my nerves."_

 _Newt's grin faded, something on his mind. Ruth waited, overly aware of his thumb tracing shapes on the back of her hand._

 _"The other day, when I mentioned how Dr Buren had told Teresa you weren't well, you looked worried..."_

 _"I did?" Ruth feigned naivety; she didn't want to think about the possibility that she was going mad. Newt nodded, waiting for her explanation. "I dont know," she shrugged. "I was probably just tired, you did wake me up remember." She nudged him teasingly._

 _"I said I was sorry!" Newt exclaimed softly._

 _"I know, I know." Ruth assured, resting her head on his shoulder._

 _"You'd tell me if something was wrong, wouldn't you?" Newt asked, serious again._

 _"Of course I would." The lie stung her tongue, but if Newt noticed, he didn't remark on it. He just wrapped his arm around her shoulder, his cheek resting against the top of her head._

 _"Good."_

* * *

Ruth's eyes snapped upwards as she heard someone enter. It was the day after Newt had jumped, and she was still locked in the room, although luckily the screens had returned to their blank state. Ruth couldn't handle having to watch Newt in pain again. Her heart twanged when she saw the boy standing in front of her.

Thomas.

Pain evident on his face, Thomas stared at her, the truth swimming in his eyes.

He knew about Newt.

Slowly, Ruth got to her feet, her eyes fixed on Thomas. They stared at each other for one long moment until finally Thomas stepped forward, his hoarse whisper shattering Ruth's stoic walls. "Ruth, I…"

Her stiff expression morphed into grief and she stumbled into his arms, letting out a sob. Everything she'd been holding in flooded out, tears pooling down her cheeks and dampening Thomas's shirt. She tried talking, but all that came out was incoherent murmurs. His arms tightened around her, sniffling as he tried to hold himself together.

"I should've been there, maybe I could have noticed something, _anything_ , and then maybe…" He croaked. "I'm sorry Ruth, I'm so sorry."

It was true that Thomas hadn't been to the observation room since the Randall incident- when they'd discovered he'd gone Crank. That was a month ago. However, that didn't mean he should feel guilty, there was nothing he could have done. Besides, Newt would have been fine, if it hadn't been for her messing with his head for months.

Ruth shook her head. "It's not your fault, Thomas." She croaked. "I'd been there the whole time and I didn't spot it. I should have. I should have realised but I was so stupid. I thought everything was okay and I didn't even see that- that he- felt like _that_ and I-"

"Shh," Thomas spoke softly into her ear. "We both let him down. So did Teresa and Dr Paige and everyone else at WICKED."

"It hurts," Ruth whimpered, Newt's voice echoing in her head. "It hurts so bloody much."

"I know, Ruth," Thomas clenched his eyes shut, "I know."

* * *

 _Ruth tumbled into the Group A barrack. About a dozen boys were mulling around between classes and Ruth spied Newt sprawled across one of the lower bunks. She could hardly contain herself._

 _"Newt!" She exclaimed loudly. Caught by surprise, Newt bolted upright and looked about in concern. He saw the grin stretched across her face and relaxed somewhat, intrigue replacing the confusion._

 _She grabbed his arm, heaving him to his feet. "Come on!"_

 _"What is it?" He asked, glancing around the room. Butterflies flurried in Ruth's chest at this. He was always so wary of the other boys' reactions. He'd never been a fan of being the centre of attention, he preferred to be the support rather than the leader, unlike Minho for example. He'd had to put up with a great many looks when Ruth had initially joined Group A, everyone curious as to their relationship. Ruth hadn't been overly fond of the attention either at the time. Gradually she grew used to it, and the boys lost interest anyway. Newt however, was always self-conscious, which made it far too easy to tease him._

 _"Just shut up and come on!" She hauled him from the room, out of view. Abruptly, she spun around. Leaping into his arms, she tightly wrapped her arms and legs around his torso._

 _"Ruth?" He tucked his hands under her legs._

 _"They've shortened the Maze Trials," Ruth pulled back, beaming so widely it hurt her cheeks, "you're only going to be in there for two years!"_

 _Ruth watched as the words sunk in. She saw the minute shift in his expression, the sudden glint in his eyes, marking the exact moment their meaning barrelled into him_

 _He yanked her to him, their lips crashing together. He moved forward until her back pressed against the wall, her erratic heartbeat reaching out to him. A smile tugged at his lips and he leaned back, searching her eyes. Ruth gazed back, into his deep brown eyes. They were endless, and swimming within them was everything that was Newt. His soft nature; his patience, his understanding, his kindness. His laugh, his smile. His memories; every choice he had ever made, every event that had turned him into the perfect boy he was today. It was all there, in those unforgettable brown eyes._

 _Newt pressed his forehead against hers, breaking their gaze as their eyes fluttered shut. Newt lightly touched his lips to hers, not close enough for her to kiss him, but enough for her heart to explode in her chest._

It was at this moment that Ruth realised something.

 _She reached a hand to the back of his neck, tugging him closer, and finally Newt bridged the gap._

She would never stop loving him.

* * *

 **Month twenty-one of Maze Trials**

The steady murmuring in the background fell eerily quiet and Ruth snapped from her daze. She saw Dr Paige staring at her, looking unimpressed.

"Did you hear anything I just said?" She arched one of her brows.

"Yes," Ruth replied wearily. Dr Paige sighed heavily in irritation.

"Did you _listen_ to anything I just said?"

"Something about making people feel things." Ruth shrugged, her mind aching to flee the dull meeting. "Bad things."

"Good things too," Dr Paige corrected, "all essential in our work."

"The feelings aren't real if you force them."

"Which is why we don't," Dr Paige replied impatiently, "we don't strap electrodes to them or pump hormones into their veins."

"You manipulate them…" Ruth drawled, "their surroundings… their memories. The only reason you make them happy at all, is so that they can crash harder, so that their pain is more extreme." Dr Paige scowled at that.

"You had such potential- you still do- and yet you choose to waste it." Dr Paige sighed. "You want to sit back and let the world burn around you because you're too selfish to take the hard path."

"I'm the selfish one?" Ruth slammed her hands on the table. "What have you had to sacrifice! You lot work on a cure that _doesn't exist_ and use it as an excuse to fund this building to keep you safe from all the Cranks out there."

"Do you really believe we won't find a cure?"

"You've spent ten years putting all your efforts into the Maze, then they've all been in there for nearly two years, and you're still nowhere near to finding a cure! When will you realise that what you're doing isn't working!"

"What do you expect us to do Ruth?" Dr Paige retorted. "Give in and let the rest of the world suffer? There are millions out there, some nearly at the Gone, some newly infected. Those that haven't been infected yet still spend every waking moment terrified of the Cranks and the possibility that they could soon catch the Flare. Even Immunes are affected. They spend their lives hiding from savage Cranks and fearing for the lives of their Non-Immune family.

"You think we're harsh but we won't make any progress if we're overly cautious. We don't have time for that. We need to follow methods that will get results, and they do. Although we don't have a cure yet, we are getting closer every single day. Piecing together more and more information on the virus-"

"I bet you've got that speech down to a tee now." Ruth interjected, her tone prickly. "Trying to brainwash everyone so that they fall into place. Perhaps you've even convinced yourself… but trust me when I say that you will _never_ fool me."

"You thought you knew better than us once Ruth. Thought you'd take matters into your own hands." Dr Paige replied, referring to communicating with Newt. "Remind me, how did that turn out?" Ruth glowered at her. "I thought so," Dr Paige hummed smugly. "All you need to do Ruth, is tell us who you were speaking to, who helped you…"

"Get out."

She sighed and left the room without complaint. Ruth didn't even wince as the screens around her replayed Newt's jump. They'd played it so many times that Ruth now felt numb. Not numb to Newt's pain- she could never even begin to get over that- but numb to WICKED's form of torture. Her heart heaved but she no longer shed any tears. She felt trapped within her own mind. It was like being amidst a storm at sea. Locked away within the bowels of the ship with waves thrashing against the sides. Although she was as safe as she could be, she was still surrounded by the ravenous ocean that threatened to wash her away.

All she could do was stay hidden, and hope it would pass.

* * *

 **Month twenty-four of Maze Trials.**

 _Ruth, you can't give up._

Exhausted, Ruth didn't even attempt to reply to Dr Buren.

 _Ruth, please. The Right Arm will come I promise._

Dr Buren had been saying those words for months now, and still the Right Arm was nowhere to be seen. Ruth knew the likelihood of them ever coming was miniscule. The rational part of her mind screamed, it wanted her to accept this, yet she couldn't. A tiny sliver of hope still nestled inside her and despite loathing her naïve side, she couldn't rid herself of it. If she did give in, what would she do? What would she have left, other than unbearable guilt?

Even if she turned against Dr Buren, what good would telling WICKED do? The corporation was still the reason all of this was happening. Revealing Dr Buren's identity to them might get rid of Dr Buren, but it wouldn't take away the consequences of what were still Ruth's decisions. All that would happen is that Ruth would be left completely alone to deal with what she had done.

Dr Buren continued to talk at her, and Ruth continued to ignore her. She didn't want to be hopeful. She wanted to stop pretending that everything was going to be okay. She wanted all of it to stop.

The door to what was effectively her prison, swung open. Thomas shuffled in, frowning at Ruth's lack of reaction. She just sat there, eyes fixed on the far wall. He sat near her, wringing his hands as he worked out what to say. He visited often but after the first time, Ruth seemed to have drawn in on herself. She was like an empty shell of the bubbly girl she used to be. Each time he saw her, she said fewer words to him. Sometimes he'd only get a hum or a nod. It was clear she blamed herself for what happened to Newt. Thomas tried desperately to convince her otherwise, but she refused to listen. If anything, it only made her even more absent from their conversations.

"Chuck goes into the Maze tomorrow." He said at last. The only sound was her shallow breath. "He wanted to say goodbye to you-"

"But they won't let him." Flickering from their spot on the walls, her eyes bore into him.

"No." Thomas swallowed. "They won't." His heart sank as Ruth went back to staring at the wall. "Anything you want me to tell him?"

Ruth was quiet for a minute and Thomas was worried she wouldn't say anything. Ruth's head whirred as she tried to come up with something to say. She called out into her mind, pleading with herself to string together one single sentence that would comfort Chuck. All the subjects in the mazes were children, but Chuck… he was far too young. She still remembered the first time she saw him, sniffling in the corridor through one of the security cameras. His presence had given away that Teresa had been messing with the camera feeds- the loop she'd made no longer seamless. Thinking back to that day reminded her that Chuck was entirely innocent. He didn't know about the horrors WICKED had committed; Ruth, Thomas and Teresa had made sure of it. He was Chuck. The boy who'd become like a younger brother to everyone that knew him.

She'd be damned if she didn't offer him some sort of reassurance.

"Tell him if he doesn't annoy the hell outta Minho, I'll be very disappointed." She managed a small smile. "And that I'll see him soon."

Thomas soon left to find Chuck, a grin on his face after seeing Ruth's mood lighten for the first time in so long.

Ruth's heart twanged at how cheerful he had become by what she had said. She knew he hated seeing her so miserable all the time, but he didn't understand. He would never understand. As much as she wished it weren't true, if she told him what she had done, he would _hate_ her.


	12. Chapter 11

**A/N: Here it is guys. The end of the Maze Trials, enjoy!**

 **Month twenty-four of Maze Trials**

Whenever anyone was sent into the Maze, those first few days were tough. Confusion. Fear. They were overwhelming when a person couldn't remember themselves. The other Gladers were always empathetic towards the Greenies and when Chuck, tears pouring from his bloodshot eyes, emerged from the Box, everyone's hearts broke. The idea that someone so young and vulnerable could have been sent into a place like the Maze, was horrific.

Everyone made a lot of effort with Chuck, each feeling the urge to protect him. Fortunately, he seemed to have adjusted swiftly to his new life- at least, he had during the day when around the other Gladers. When night came however, Chuck would lie in his hammock, and his worries would be let loose in his head. He didn't sob anymore, he didn't want to seem pathetic in front of his new friends. Instead, silent tears would roll down his cheeks and he'd clamp his eyes shut.

Thomas wanted to know exactly what Chuck was thinking at times like those. He wanted to be able to tell Chuck that everything was going to be okay. That he had a plan.

It had been approved yesterday by Dr Paige- the elites would be sent into the Mazes. The details were yet to be discussed but they had a meeting scheduled later today. Thomas wasn't too fussed on the specifics as long as one thing was permitted: that each of the elites would keep their memories. It was the key to his plan- the key to breaking the Gladers out of the Maze.

Thomas and Teresa were still debating whether to tell Aris and Rachel. Ruth, however, Thomas was adamant that she should be told. He highly doubted that she would be allowed to go into the Maze. Ruth was viewed by WICKED as too much of a risk, but he wanted to give her some hope to cling onto, and that's what his plan was. Hope.

Opening the door to where Ruth was being kept, he saw videos of the Glade filling the walls. Currently they were focused on a group of Gladers sprawled across the grass. Newt and Minho were lying on their backs, staring up at the stars. Chuck was slouched against a tree, an empty bowl in his lap. Alby and Leo were sat on a log, drawing pictures in the dirt with sticks. The group was talking amongst themselves, making stupid jokes and snorting at each other. They all seemed so happy, as if they were ordinary boys without a care in the world.

It made Thomas angry that WICKED were doing this to Ruth. Most of what they showed her was Newt when he was upset- reminding Ruth of what she had supposedly done; or Gladers getting stung by Grievers- a warning that WICKED still had the power to do what they wanted unless Ruth cooperated. Occasionally, WICKED would show Ruth moments like these, where her friends were happy, but they didn't show her this to soothe or reassure her. No. The only purpose of this was to tempt her, to make her realise that the pain of the Gladers could go away if she told them what she knew.

Thomas knew it was a lie. The horrors that the Gladers experienced didn't happen because Ruth had integrity, they happened because WICKED needed variables. Ruth giving in wouldn't stop Gladers dying in the Maze, wouldn't make the Gladers suddenly be okay with being trapped, and Thomas was relieved that Ruth was as stubborn as she was. He could tell however, that she was struggling to resist, which is why he needed her to know that there was another option.

The screens went blank and she glanced up at him, a softness in her eyes after seeing her friends enjoying themselves. Thomas sat beside her and kept very still. He counted two minutes and hoped that Ruth would catch on to what he was doing. Luckily, she didn't say a word, nor did she turn to face him.

"I think we're okay now," Thomas said. Teresa had hacked into the camera feed and the past two minutes would be played on loop, allowing Thomas to disclose the plan to Ruth without WICKED finding out.

As Thomas told her, Ruth knew she wasn't reacting the way he had expected. Whether he was waiting for doubt or relief, a thousand questions or celebration, she wasn't entirely sure, though she could tell he wasn't expecting such a lack of reaction. His words must've seemed to bounce off her, when in reality they were reverberating inside her head. Her mind cast back to a meeting she'd had with Chancellor Anderson and Dr Paige so long ago. They'd said that they planned for the elites to go into the Maze but they hadn't divulged the information with them yet. Thomas's plan wasn't his plan. It was what WICKED wanted, that's why they had been so quick to agree. As for the Swipe, Ruth knew there was no way they would be going into the Maze with their memories intact. Although Thomas hadn't rebelled in the way Ruth had, it was clear that he disliked WICKED's way of doing things and the corporation couldn't allow a liability into the Maze. They hated not being in complete control as they had made very clear with Ruth.

Yet she couldn't bring herself to tell Thomas this. If he knew that she'd been told this years ago it would only give him another reason to hate her, and as selfish as it was, Ruth didn't want to lose him. Besides, a small part of her wanted to believe the plan would work, the Right Arm was taking too long, and Dr Buren didn't have any sort of backup plan. Even if the ploy failed, the idea of Thomas being in the Maze with Newt comforted her. They wouldn't remember each other but Ruth knew that wouldn't stop them becoming friends all over again. Deep down, they were still the same people.

* * *

 **Month twenty-five of Maze Trials**

Ruth recognised the sharp footsteps of Dr Paige immediately and intentionally didn't turn around to face her.

"Where's Thomas?" She hadn't seen Thomas since he had told her about his plan. He'd undoubtedly be busy preparing, but she knew he would've said goodbye before he went into the Maze. At least, he would've if he could, and Dr Paige's visit only made Ruth more suspicious that something had already gone wrong.

"He's been sent up into the Maze." Dr Paige confirmed. "He was going to come and see you-"

"Then why didn't he!" Ruth couldn't let on that she already knew about Thomas going into the Maze. WICKED knew he had come to see her, but they just thought that the pair had sat in silence, as they often did because Thomas knew that no words could ever make everything okay.

"You know we take all this very seriously Ruth, we can't afford to have you mess it up anymore."

"Oh my god." Ruth gasped. "He thought he was going to keep his memories, didn't he?" Dr Paige didn't answer. "You lied to him, you were always going to wipe his memories, regardless of what you told him. You didn't want him to tell me about it because you were worried I'd tell him the truth." She snapped. "Just tell me one thing," she paused. "Why even humour his idea of keeping his memories?"

"We've studied Thomas for years, his brain patterns, the chemical reactions in his body… but more importantly, we've _known_ Thomas. We know what he's like as a person and we know how he'd do anything to help his friends." Dr Paige replied, and Ruth swore the woman sounded… regretful?

"Was he kicking and screaming when you strapped him to the prep table?" Ruth spat, trying to get a rise out of her.

"I put sedatives in his tea." Dr Paige's honesty caught Ruth off guard, and she turned to face her. The doctor's eyes were glossy. "None of us enjoy doing this Ruth, but we _have_ to. I've come to see Thomas like a son. It was bad enough seeing the betrayal in his eyes when he realised what I'd done." Ruth shook her head.

"You had a choice." She said. "You chose _wrong_."

* * *

"Run!" Sonya screamed as a Griever thundered around the corner. No need to be told twice, Group B sprinted through the Maze, desperate to stay ahead of the metal beast.

Ruth couldn't tear her eyes from the screen as she watched. The camera feed flitted between beetle blades, the view shaking as they scuttled along the walls. The group had finally cracked the code to escape the Maze, and now, the only problem they faced was surviving the journey to the Griever hatch. The majority had never stepped foot out of the Glade and it was evident how terrified they were. Ruth spotted Beth, clutching at Ros's hand, so that the young blonde wouldn't fall behind. Beth was panting heavily, sweat beading on her skin. Ros kept rubbing at her eyes, trying to clear her vision.

No one had realised that the Griever behind them had disappeared.

As they reached the next junction, the Runners leading the group turned left, only for the Griever burst from that corridor, causing everyone to shriek and scatter in all directions. Ros's hand slipped from her grasp and Beth whipped her head around, trying to spot where the small girl had gone.

"Ros!" Her cry received no answer amongst the commotion.

"Beth!" Beth's head snapped towards the voice to see Mary urging her to follow. "This way!" Ruth had never been more relieved that Mary and Beth were so close. Being a Runner, Mary knew every path of the Maze inside out. She would know the fastest way to get to the Griever Hatch and would make sure Beth got there safely.

Beth shook her head. "I lost Ros!" Mary ran to her, lacing their fingers together and tugging her along.

"She's with Miyoko, we have to go!"

As much as Beth hated not having Ros with her, where she could see she was safe, she knew there was no time to search for her and Miyoko. They had to get to the Griever Hatch before the Grievers blocked it off.

The pair tore through the Maze, each clutching the other's hand like a lifeline. Darting down passage after passage, Beth was baffled by how Mary managed to keep track of where they were; her own thoughts were a muddled mess. Without warning, the redhead skidded to a halt, yanking Beth to a standstill. Slowly, Mary turned around, looking upwards. Her face paled.

The clinking of metal could be heard, and Beth stiffened, terrified to follow Mary's gaze. It was getting closer. What were they supposed to do? They couldn't just stand there but she didn't know where to go. Mary did but she still hadn't moved. Holding her breath, Beth looked up, regretting it instantly.

Four Grievers clung to the vines above them, waiting. Beth's eyes darted in different directions, calculating if they'd be able to make a run for it without the Grievers catching up. It seemed painfully unlikely. Oh God. Tears pricked her eyes. This was it. This was actually the end. She could feel herself shaking and she wanted to cry out. How could it be over, after everything she'd gone through. Over two years spent trapped in the Glade, and just when freedom was within her reach, it was gone. She would never know what was beyond the walls. The world she had forgotten entirely… she'd never see the places it held, the people that lived there. She'd never know the person she once was, would never find out where she lived or be reunited with the family that she hoped she had.

She would never know.

Abruptly, the Grievers lurched into motion and Mary knocked Beth backwards towards the wall. Expecting her back to collide with rough stone, Beth was surprised when she tumbled through a layer of vines, into a hidden crevice. Mary followed after her, pushing Beth as far back as they could go. Beth was trembling as the whirr of the Griever grew closer. They crashed into the web of green and Ruth wanted to cry with relief as their limbs got tangled, preventing them from getting through. Not only that, but the crevice was narrow enough so that even if they cut away the ivy, their bulbous bodies wouldn't be able to squeeze into the gap.

It was then that she realised she was pressed flush against Mary. Her cheeks grew hot and Beth hoped that if Mary did notice in the dim lighting, that she'd put it down to the running.

"What do we do now?" Beth whispered, aware of how they were trapped there. Mary bit her lip.

"I don't know," she spoke softly, her breath fanning across Beth's face. "I really don't know."

They stood there in silence, listening to the shrieks of the Grievers a few feet from them. Beth knew she should have been terrified, she had been a moment before, but in that endless instant, she couldn't find it in herself to be afraid. A great sense of calm washed over her. Acceptance. She took hold of Mary's hand and squeezed it. This might be the end of the line, but Beth didn't care. She didn't need to know about her past, she liked who she was now. She didn't need to meet the people she'd known before the Maze. They knew and loved the girl she had once been, the person she was now would be a stranger to them. Beth had her friends, the people she'd grown to love over her time in the Glade. They were all she needed.

If these were her last moments, she'd damn well make them count for something.

"Mary," she paused, plucking up the courage. "I-"

"Shh," Mary pressed a finger to Beth's lips, listening intently to something. Trying to ignore her thrumming heartbeat, Beth noticed what had caught Mary's attention. The Grievers had gone quiet. "I think they're gone."

Releasing Beth's hand, Mary crept to the vines, peering between the gaps.

"Are they there?"

"I can't see them," Mary finally said, stepping away from the entrance. "We should go before they come back."

"You're sure?" The fear was creeping back now, and the crack in Beth's voice gave her away. Mary drew her into a hug.

"It'll be fine." She drew back, her hands planted firmly on Beth's shoulders. "I promise." Beth nodded mutely, indecision raging in her mind. Then Mary turned back to the ivy and Beth cursed herself. "You ready?"

Beth let out a shaking breath. "Yes." Mary cracked a grin at her.

"Good." Grabbing Beth's hand, she dragged the girl out from their hiding place. Immediately the pair bolted into a sprint. No sound could be heard other than their heavy breaths and smack of their feet against the concrete, and Beth really thought that the Grievers were gone, that they had a chance.

Their luck turned south when they turned the final corner. The black abyss of the Griever hatch was in sight, there was only one small problem.

A griever blocked their path.

They jerked to a stop and watched as the Griever moved steadily towards them.

Ruth watched on the cameras, feeling utterly helpless as the monster approached her sister. Her nails dug into her palms as she silently begged them to run. It didn't matter where, they just had to keep moving, they couldn't just _give up_. They _couldn't._

Mary began to scan the ground, searching for something. Spotting a rock the size of her fist, she grabbed it. Beth looked at her perplexed.

"I have an idea." She explained. "You have to trust me, okay?" Beth considered her friend warily, unsure of what it was she was planning. "I'll distract it, get it to follow me. You run straight to the Griever hatch and don't wait for me to get back."

Beth's eyes bulged. "Don't be mad!" She hissed. "I'm not letting you run around by yourself with a Griever behind you!"

"Beth," Mary wrapped her hands around one of Beth's. "Look, I know the Maze, I've ran through here nearly every day for the past two years. I'll be fine, but if you don't take this chance, I can't promise you'll get another."

Beth knew that Mary was making sense she found that unbearably frustrating- she didn't want to have to take this gamble on Mary's life. The redhead's words replayed in Beth's mind, only this time they took on a different meaning.

Beth cupped Mary's cheek and before she could doubt herself, she pressed their lips together. Fluttering nerves quickly transformed into flares igniting in her chest. She smiled as Mary returned the kiss, her arms looping around Beth's neck.

It was brief, but to Beth it was perfect.

"I'll see you soon." Was all that Mary said before stepping backward. She adjusted her grip on the rock in her hand, waiting till the Griever was close enough then brought her arm over her head. The rock clanged against the Griever's head, causing it to shriek as it whipped its head to the source, giving Mary its undivided attention.

It stalked towards her, opening up a gap for Beth to slip through. Mary kept her eyes on the Griever as she slowly backed up. A strangled hiss emerged from the creature as it lunged towards Mary.

"Now Beth!" She yelled as she spun on her heel and legged it down the corridor. Beth knew she couldn't let Mary's plan be for nothing, so she listened to the girl's command and fled to the safety of the Griever hatch, plummeting into the abyss. Ruth cried with relief. She had made it. Beth was safe. _She was safe._

Hitting the concrete floor of a small white room, Beth was greeted by the few other Gladers that had made it. Each of them exhausted, trauma swirling in their eyes.

"Beth!" A high-pitched voice shouted. Ros barrelled into Beth's arms and the older girl instinctively wrapped her arms around the girl's smaller frame. Ros realised something and pulled back with a start. "Where's Mary?" She looked around worriedly, trying to spot her friend.

"She's on her way," Beth assured her. "She'll be here."

"Hey," Beth glanced up to see Sonya, the same question Ros had swimming in her eyes. Beth looked at her blankly, giving her the answer she needed. Sonya's frown was swiftly covered by a smile as she looked down at Ros.

"We're just waiting for everyone, then we'll head out. Bet you're itching to get out of here, right?" Sonya beamed, trying to distract the young girl from her worrying.

Gradually more Gladers arrived, but still there was no sign of Mary. The room was quiet, everyone both anxious for their friends' safety and worried about how they were putting their own at risk the longer they waited. Beth and Sonya sat with Ros wedged between them. The young girl's head rested on Beth's shoulder and Sonya traced soothing patterns on the back of Ros's hand. Fatigue was starting to set in, everyone mentally and physically exhausted by the escape. Beth couldn't stop worrying about Mary. She knew the likelihood of her arriving decreased with every second, but she was terrified of even contemplating that outcome. She wasn't ready to lose her.

There was a grunt as Rachel dropped into the room. Aris rushed to her side, helping her to her feet.

Watching the tired scene, Ruth noticed something in that moment. A shift in Beth. Her face took on a vacant expression, as if no one was home. Slowly, Beth stood up. Forced to move her head, Ros glanced up in confusion. Beth offered no explanation, she didn't even look at Ros or Sonya. Her gaze was fixed on Aris and Rachel. Then, she marched forwards, her mouth twisting into a grimace.

"This is all your fault!" She snarled. Everyone's head whipped towards the commotion, but no one realised the danger Rachel was in. Why would they? How were they supposed to know what Beth would do?

With a cry, Beth leapt onto Rachel, the pair of them striking the floor. People dove towards the brawl, but no one was fast enough. Eyes wide and manic, Beth ripped the knife from her belt.

"No!" Ruth screamed, lunging forward as if she could stop it.

But she couldn't, and so Ruth watched helplessly as Beth plunged the knife into Rachel's chest.

Rachel's breathless whimpers were drowned out by the yells of the other Gladers as they hurried to drag Beth off Rachel, but Beth didn't want to move. She clawed at Rachel's throat, trying to strangle the whispers of life she had left.

"It's your fault! All your fault! You put us here! You did this!"

Then there was a thud, and Beth's lifeless body collapsed to the floor.

Miyoko's knife protruding from her back.

The screens went black, and silence beat in Ruth's ears. Her eyes glossed over, her bottom lip quivered, then from her burst an agonizing scream. She screamed to everyone and no one. No coherent thoughts strung together in her mind, all there was, was pain. Pain. Icy pain that shot through her lungs, making each breath excruciating. Scorching pain that flooded her body, making the world too hot to touch as she shrank in on herself. She was burning, by ice and fire, over and over. Unbearable. Inescapable. She needed it to stop. It was too much and it was never going to go away. It had to stop.

The connection in her mind opened.

"Ruth…" Dr Buren's woeful voice scraped against Ruth's mind. "I'm so sorry."

Ruth's throat throbbed. Her screams fell deaf on her own ears, all she could hear was ringing. Hot rage sliced through her at Dr Buren's presence. At her false sympathy. She wasn't sorry. She was the cause of all of this. If she'd never been in Ruth's head, Ruth would never have found out all the things WICKED wanted to hide form her. She wouldn't have had an outburst in front of Group A before they went in the Maze. WICKED wouldn't have been breathing down her neck since then. If Dr Buren had never told her to get inside Newt's head, he never would have thought he was mad. He never would have loathed his existence so much. He never would've tried to kill himself.

WICKED wouldn't have locked her in here. WICKED wouldn't have badgered her for information for _months,_ trying everything to get her to talk. All those Gladers that got stung or died due to WICKED's _necessary_ variables which only occurred because WICKED were trying to get her to talk. Ruth wouldn't have had to resist their attempts to persuade her so many times. They wouldn't have felt the need to keep going. They wouldn't have wanted to punish her for all that she had done.

Beth was dead.

All because Ruth tried to protect a woman she barely knew. A woman who had only caused problems for her.

Ruth slammed the mental connection closed as the door to her cell opened. Although Ruth's vision was too blurry to decipher a face, she knew it was Dr Paige in front of her.

"BUREN!" She cried. "It was Dr Buren!" She choked, gasping for breath. "It was _all her_!"

Dr Paige didn't say a word as she turned and left, leaving Ruth to sob to the abyss.

* * *

Thomas had been stung.

Well, he had stung himself. The End had begun, the Grievers had gone into the Glade, and in the aftermath, Thomas had grabbed a Griever stinger that had been left behind. He then plunged it into his leg.

Ruth's stomach had plummeted as she watched the others flock to him, yelling for someone to get the antidote. Once they were happy Thomas would be okay, Gally had barged through the crowd and ordered for Thomas and Teresa to be thrown in the Slammer. Ruth didn't understand why anyone listened to him, how he was suddenly the leader of Gladers. Surely, it should've been Newt that took over Alby's role.

Her heart twanged as Alby's death played over in her head. _Another person dead._ Were they still punishing her? She'd told them what they wanted to know. Her whole body was weighted down by yesterday's events. She kept getting flashes of her sister. Their time together in the WICKED compound. Their lives before any of this happened. When they were innocent and naïve and their worst problem was arguing over whose turn it was to play with the favourite toy.

Thomas's body had been slung into the Slammer, Teresa along with him. Newt, Minho and Chuck waited by the bars for their friend to wake up. Ruth couldn't bring herself to question why WICKED had kept her camera feeds running. She didn't know if it was a reward or punishment. All these mind games, she was done with them. What WICKED wanted to happen, happened. She couldn't keep trying to stay one step ahead, because in reality, they _always_ knew what game she was playing.

When Thomas's eyes flitted open, Ruth knew she should have been relieved that he was okay. Yet she couldn't feel _anything_. Her body was too tired to register the pain, and incapable of feeling anything good.

"Hey," Teresa said, cradling Thomas's head in her lap.

"What the hell were you thinking?" On the other side of the bars, Chuck looked at him as if he was crazy. Thomas sat up, considering his surroundings and noticed the grim expressions on Newt, Minho, and Chuck's faces. Thomas's eyebrows knitted together.

"What happened?"

"Gally's taken control." Newt spoke up. "He said we had a choice, either join him or get banished at sundown with you."

"And the others agreed to that?" Thomas quizzed, trying to wrap his head around how Gally of all people was making the orders.

"Gally has everyone convinced-" Teresa hesitated, not wanting to make Thomas feel guilty. "-that you're the reason this has all happened." Thomas sighed.

"Well he's been right so far." Ruth saw the shame on Thomas's face and then it clicked. How could she have forgotten? Beth's death had been tormenting her so much that she'd forgotten the one thing about the Griever's sting that WICKED had never managed to correct. Memories filtering through.

That's why Gally hated Thomas so much, as did anyone else who had gone through the Changing. They all remembered him from their time before the Maze. They didn't remember everything, just brief glimpses, which is why they lashed out at Thomas. They couldn't remember how he was their friend. Their friend that _cared._

"What're you talking about?" Minho peered at Thomas. Ruth wished she knew what exactly it was he remembered. Did he remember all those times they'd sneak to the maintenance room in the middle of the night? Did he remember just how close he was to the people surrounding him, how close he was to Alby? Did he remember her?

"This place, it's not what we thought it was. It's not a prison, it's a test." He revealed. Once he started, the words kept pouring out and he had to tell them everything he knew. He had to get the guilt off his chest. "It all started when we were kids. They'd give us these challenges, they were experimenting on us. The Maze was the grand experiment that they'd spent years building… that I _helped_ to build." Thomas dropped his gaze, gripping his hands. "I'm one of them. I helped them put you here. All these years, all the time you've been in the Maze, I've just _watched_ and let it happen. And so did you," He glanced up at Teresa.

"What?" Teresa sucked in a sharp breath.

"Teresa, we did this to them." Thomas nodded towards Newt, Minho and Chuck. "We worked with the people that put them here."

"No." Teresa shook her head, eyes glossy. "It can't be true."

"It is. I saw it."

They were both horrified by what they had done. Somehow that made Ruth hurt even more. She hadn't been in the Maze, hadn't had her memories wiped. She was still the same person she had always been. Now, the people who had been stuck in the same situation as her, were responding to this news as if only _monsters_ could ever help WICKED. It stung. They were her friends and they were _disgusted_ by her. Ruth wasn't proud of anything she had done and hated everything that WICKED stood for, but she had still helped. Her excuse had been that she didn't have a choice, but she had. There was always a choice. There were so many things she could have stopped and she didn't because she was too stupid to do the right thing. The brave thing.

"Why would they send us up if we were with them?" Teresa couldn't fathom how Thomas could possibly be right.

"It doesn't matter." Thomas replied in defeat.

"He's right." Newt spoke up, his expression stony. "It doesn't matter. Any of it. Because the people we were before the maze, they don't even exist anymore. These creators took care of that." Ruth's heart clenched at his cold declaration. "What does matter is who we are now and what we do right now."

It stung. Through the numbness it pricked her heart. She'd once been happy, surrounded by all her friends. Laughing about nothing, worried about nothing. She cared about them and they cared about her. Then gradually, they all left her. She'd been in denial, thinking that one day they'd all come back. That everything would be as it had been. How could she have been so naïve. Every time one of them went in the Maze, she should've known they were never coming back. They were all gone. Minho, Alby, Teresa, Chuck, Thomas, Newt, Beth. She'd lost them. All of them.

And now Ruth was all alone.

* * *

Thomas and the others had begun devising a plan of escape when the camera feeds cut off, leaving Ruth in the dark as to what their plan was and when it would be carried out. Hours later, the screens blared to life once again.

Each of the screens were split. One half showed the control room, where she'd watched the Group A Maze so many times. Only this time it was empty, no Psychs in sight.

The other half of the screen showed a small room much like the one Ruth was in now, four screens lining the walls. A singular chair sat in the centre of the room and Dr Buren struggled against the straps holding her to it. She writhed as she desperately tried to get loose, grunting as her efforts made no difference. Ruth felt her trying to make the connection with their minds and this time she allowed it to pass through.

 _What did you do!_ The woman's hoarse cry echoed in Ruth's head. _Ruth, what have you done!_

Ruth watched her blankly, feeling no remorse for giving the woman away. She did this to herself.

Movement flickered on the right screen and Group A burst into the control room. Ruth's heart thudded. They'd done it. They were out of the Maze. The group looked around, startled by their surroundings. They treaded around the room, taking in all the equipment and technology. Newt's gaze was fixed to one of the screens, showing a view of inside the Glade.

"So, they _were_ watching." Newt muttered and Ruth could see the despair on his face. He had hoped that he'd been wrong, that no one had been watching everything, because that was so much easier than knowing someone had watched him suffer and _didn't care._ Ruth knew in that moment that he hated her. He couldn't even remember her, her face or voice…yet he _despised_ her.

Recognition flitted across Thomas's face as he studied the room. He glanced at Teresa and Chuck. He remembered the days they'd spent in there together, watching their friends in the Maze. Ruth wondered if the memories he'd regained included her, if those hazy recollections involved her sitting beside them. Thomas pressed a button on the control panel, and a video of Dr Paige filled one of the screens.

"Hello, my name is Chancellor Ava Paige of the World In Catastrophe: Killzone Experiment Department, also known as WICKED." Ruth's brows furrowed, when had she become Chancellor? What happened to Chancellor Anderson? She thought back to see if she'd forgotten anything. She'd been so isolated for months now, with very limited contact with anyone. Dr Paige had visited plenty of times and now Ruth realised that must have been why, if she was indeed the new Chancellor. But then, why hadn't Thomas told her about the woman's promotion, and about what had happened to Chancellor Anderson.

Chancellor Paige went on to congratulate the group on completing the Maze Trials before sympathising with the anger and hurt they must be feeling. She explained what had happened to the world: the solar flares and the disease that followed. She of course neglected to share the fact that WICKED had created the Flare virus. The Gladers were silent as they processed all of the information.

"Someone will be with you shortly, please wait until they arrive, and then you can ask as many questions as you wish."

The video ended and the door they'd come through reopened. The Glader's stiffened as they watched Gally stagger into the room. His face was crumpled, his eyes bloodshot as he choked out what few words he could manage.

"You can't leave."

"Gally," Thomas said softly, carefully, as if trying not to scare him. "We're out, we did it."

"There's nothing out there," Gally shook his head vigorously. "Not for us."

"We can't just stay in the Maze forever, Gally." Minho reasoned.

"The Maze that _Thomas_ put us in..." Gally trailed off, his whole body tensing, as if he was struggling to control his movements. "The Maze that _he_ put us through… everyone who died, it was because of _him_." He growled, eyes snapping to Thomas's face.

Thomas paled as guilt washed through him. He was also terrified of what was wrong with Gally. Suddenly, the boy's trembling stopped, and he stood completely still, his grimace faded, leaving a blank slate.

It was then that Ruth realised something was _very_ wrong. Chuck leapt forward just as Gally's knife whipped through the air. Time slowed and the air left Ruth's lungs. All she could hear was the slow pounding of her heart. All she could see was the metal blade as it spun over and over again, heading towards its inevitable target.

Then, as the knife embedded itself in Chuck's chest, time resumed its normal speed. Ruth realised that Dr Buren was screaming. The sound of it _hurt_. It was pure anguish.

"Frankie!" She shrieked at the cameras, at the boy who now lay bleeding on the ground.

Ruth swore her heart stopped.

Everything began piecing itself together.

On the day the Maze Trials started, Ruth had been walking with Chuck before she spotted Dr Buren and followed the familiarity of her dreams. Only it wasn't _her_ that had spotted Dr Buren. Chuck had stopped, looking as if he'd seen a ghost. Now Ruth knew why- he had seen Dr Buren from behind and _recognised her_.

Ruth had never seen both of them in a room together, whenever Chuck entered a room Dr Buren was already in, the woman would make a swift exit, _knowing_ the boy would recognise her.

When Ruth had asked Dr Buren why she should trust her, she _told_ Ruth she had a _son_. It had never crossed Ruth's mind that Dr Buren had found her son, she presumed the woman would've told her if she had.

Chuck was _Dr Buren's_ _son_ , and now he'd never be reunited with his mother.

There was something else, something that didn't sit right with Ruth as she drowned in the screams of a mother grieving for her child. Dr Buren was strapped to a chair, watching these events unfold. There was no way WICKED could have known this would be the outcome. Unless…

Oh God.

Ruth wanted to throw up.

It all made sense. Gally's stiffness, he'd been trying to fight against WICKED's control. They'd _made him_ throw the knife. As for Chuck, none of the other Gladers reacted as quickly as he did, because Chuck had begun to move _before_ the knife had even been thrown. WICKED had _made him_ move.

When WICKED was angry with Ruth, what did they do? They turned Beth into a _murderer_ and then got her killed.

Now they were angry with Dr Buren. After discovering she wasn't one of them, it wouldn't have been difficult for them to find the link between the mother and her son, not with their endless files. So, they hurt her in the cruellest way possible. If Ruth hadn't lashed out, they wouldn't have had a clue Dr Buren was involved, they wouldn't have had the need to investigate the woman.

Chuck was Dr Buren's son, and he was dead because of _her_.

Ruth's body hunched forwards as she threw up bile. She couldn't remember the last time she'd eaten. It burned her throat and the only thought that passed her mind was that she deserved it. She had done this. This was her fault.

Thomas collapsed to Chuck's side, shaking the boy's shoulders and begging him to wake up. Minho had thrown a spear at Gally when he'd seen him raise the knife, only it reached him too late, but now Gally slumped to the floor. Eyes glossed over as the Gladers looked at the boy who they had considered their friend- the one who had hurt _Chuck_ , wondering how he could've been capable of such a thing.

Thomas's cries were the only sound. No one knew what to do next. They had escaped, they were out of the Maze- Chuck had made it out. Yet still the small boy hadn't been safe, hadn't been given the chance at life he deserved.

Everyone but Thomas looked up at the sound of the door opening. A woman walked in, auburn hair scraped back in a tight ponytail. She considered the scene, eyes flickering over everyone including Chuck, with an unreadable look in her eyes. She pursed her lips.

"You must all be very tired, please come with-" Her sentence was cut short, followed by the thump of her body hitting the floor. Suddenly, six people rushed over her unconscious body, guns held tightly in their grips.

"Come with us, quickly!" They began tugging at the boys' arms, urging them into the hallway. The Gladers didn't need much persuading, not only did they have nowhere else to go but it was very clear that these people were not with WICKED. In the Glader's eyes, anyone not with WICKED was on the right side.

A thought struck Ruth and the brief flash of hope was quickly drowned by resentment. If these people were with the Right Arm, then they were a day too late. If they'd arrived the day before, just _one day_ earlier _,_ they could've rescued Group B. Beth would be alive, she'd be _okay_.

Instead, they arrived today.

Eventually they managed to drag Thomas away from Chuck with Newt's help, and then the control room was empty. The screens cut off and blaring alarms filled Ruth's cell.

She sat there, her foggy mind wading through what had just happened, what was _happening_. Then she realised something. She ran to the door, pounding against it with her fists. She screamed and screamed, hoping someone was nearby. She didn't know exactly where she was in the compound, but hopefully the Right Arm would pass somewhere near. It was a long shot but Ruth preferred to try something instead of being stuck there forever.

She couldn't believe it when thudding came from the other side of the door.

"Stand back!" A voice shouted. Ruth did as she was told. She heard the fire of bullets and then the door swung open, revealing two men, their faces covered. Her head swirled as they dragged her through the compound. She was getting out. This was happening. What she'd longed for, for so long, was actually coming true.

When the three of them intersected the rest of the rescuers, Ruth's legs almost gave way completely. Instantly, her eyes fixed on, the real him. Not some video or memory, but _him_. Electricity darted through her, pulling her to the boy she'd missed so much, the boy she loved. Her heart exploded in her chest, its thundering beat felt throughout her whole body. The Maze Trials had seemed to stretch on for an eternity, and Ruth never thought it would end, that she'd ever get to live this moment.

"Newt!" She leapt forward, wrenching herself out of the men's hold. The Gladers all jumped back, startled by the strange girl's outburst. Ruth didn't notice, her mind caught up in the moment. All she could think about was Newt. He was there. He was safe. He was _safe._ Looking into his eyes, Ruth saw an unfamiliar blankness in his eyes. Her mind whirred, trying to work out what that look was. Before her outreached hand could touch him, she felt a prick in the back of her neck and instantly the room began to sway.

As her mind tumbled into the abyss, the realisation struck her cold. She could describe Newt in so many ways; every time anyone said his name her mind was filled with _so many_ memories and emotions. Now though, she realised that Newt would only have one word for her.

 _Stranger._


	13. Chapter 12

**A/N: Hey guys! Exams are over and Summer is here at last, which means no more excuses for slow updates! Hope you enjoy :)**

When Ruth woke up, the first thing she registered was her body throbbing. She wanted desperately to just sink back into sleep. A soft groan escaping her lips, she rolled onto her side.

Then it all came back to her, and her eyes shot open.

Her gaze darted around the room she was in. There were screens, medical equipment. Feeling a pressure in her arm she glanced down, seeing a tube attached there. What was going on? Where was she? Cautiously, she sat up and saw a man approaching her. His greying hair and crooked smile made him appear soft and harmless.

"You must have a lot of questions, right?" He didn't wait for an answer, turning around to check the readings on the screens. "I know I would." Spinning back around, he reached for her arm, removing the tube. "I'm probably not the best person to explain, I get told I tend to ramble. Are you able to stand up?"

Ruth nodded mutely, determined to get out of the ward and to somewhere she could get some answers.

"Excellent." The man held out a hand. "It's Ruth isn't it?" Warily, she took it, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed.

"How'd you know that?" Her voice cracked.

"You forget we had someone on the inside." He answered amused. Ruth got to her feet, more unsteady than she would've liked.

"The Right Arm." She stated, piecing it together.

"That's right." The man smiled and passed her a small pile of clothes. "There's a bathroom through that door. If you're feeling okay, someone can take you to the main hall afterwards."

"Thank you." Ruth offered a small smile before shuffling to the bathroom. Her mind was still processing how all of this could be happening right now. It was such a big change from, well, _everything._ For once, she wasn't under the scrutiny of WICKED, wasn't being used or manipulated. Shutting the bathroom door behind her, she headed for the shower.

She stopped cold. Turning her head to face the mirror, her stomach twisted. She looked _ill_. Her complexion pale and sickly, her hair greasy and matted, she should have expected that after being locked away for so long. Her cheeks had sunken in and her clothes were noticeably larger on her than they used to be. Ruth grimaced. She hadn't had much of an appetite with everything going on. She was quite the sight. No wonder Newt and the others had been scared of her when she'd leapt at them.

Oh, she'd forgotten about that part. Heat flooded to her cheeks in embarrassment and she hid her face in her hands, pushing the heels into her eyes. Groaning, she abruptly dropped her hands and marched to the shower. She stepped in and harshly twisted the knob. Lukewarm water beat down against her and slowly, she peeled the dirty clothes from her body.

She half expected herself to cry, break down into a sobbing mess, but she didn't. She couldn't. Her eyes burned but the tears wouldn't come.

Eventually she turned the water off, it's soothing sound vanishing. In the cold and quiet, Ruth padded to the pile of fresh clothes the man had given her. The fabric was rough and worn but it was nothing Ruth wasn't used to. Putting on the faded t-shirt Ruth was surprised that it fit. The trousers, however, were a size too big. They hung loose on her hips and Ruth bent down to fold the cuffs, stopping them from pooling at her feet. Realising there wasn't much else to do, she sighed and, slipping on the scuffed shoes she'd been given, left the bathroom.

Across the ward, the old medic was speaking to someone. With his back to her, Ruth couldn't see his face. As she approached, the medic caught her eye and his face lit up, waving her over.

"Ruth, this is Mr Janson." The man turned around, allowing Ruth to see his face. She paused, eyes scanning him carefully. Why did she feel like she recognised him?

"I worked at WICKED," Janson answered her thoughts, "like Dr Buren, I was someone on the inside, collecting information." That explained it. Ruth waited for relief to fill her, but it didn't come. She couldn't bring herself to relax with Janson watching her like that. She shoved the worry to the back of her mind; it seemed her time at WICKED had made her overly suspicious.

"You must be hungry," Janson said, filling the break in conversation. "I'll explain everything on the way to the others." He nodded at the old man. "Thank you, Myers."

At 'the others' Ruth's attention was piqued. She smiled gratefully at Myers before trailing after Janson. It was fairly similar to the WICKED compound, with its endless corridors, only everything was less… sleek. Walls peeled and visible pipes ran across the ceiling, with the lights fastened there flickering slightly.

"Where would you like me to start?" Janson asked as they walked. Ruth thought she'd get the obvious questions out of the way first.

"Where are we?"

"One of the Right Arm's secure bases." She didn't know if she'd been expecting something more precise, but then again, it wasn't as if it would mean anything to her.

"How do you know WICKED won't find us here?"

"They've never come close to finding us before." He began. "They'll be too worried about making sure their base is secure again, testing all personnel for the Flare, background checks to make sure there's no more double agents, it'll take time. If they do eventually decide you Immunes are worth the trouble of tracking down, we'll see them coming and we have multiple procedures in place to make sure you don't end up back there."

Ruth considered that for a moment. It did put her mind at ease slightly, the fear of returning to that hellhole had been gnawing away at her.

"How did you get into WICKED?" She wondered.

"Not easily," he admitted. "It took months of preparation as you know. We couldn't rescue anyone while they were still inside the Maze, so we had to wait until they finished the Trial. We waited until the second group was finishing and then those of us who were undercover helped the rest of the rescue team sneak in."

"You got Group B out too?" She anticipated more information about Beth; a niggling voice in her head hoped that what she'd seen on the cameras was all false. That Beth hadn't attacked Rachel, and Beth hadn't- Ruth snapped herself from her thoughts. She couldn't bear to even _think_ about it.

"Some of them. One of our bergs got hijacked on the way here, we're not too sure who by, it wasn't WICKED. Probably just a group of rogues in the Scorch. Anyway, that berg was holding some of the Group B candidates." He paused, sympathy flickering across his face. "I'm sorry about your sister, she didn't deserve what happened to her."

"No," Ruth's stomach knotted at the confirmation of Beth's death. "She didn't." The rest of their walk was silent, and Ruth's ears pricked when she at last heard the babble of voices. The tunnel opened out and the pair stopped at the entrance to a wide hall. Rows of tables stretched across the hall, seats filled by people around her age, chomping away at the food on their plates.

"There weren't just two Mazes." Janson explained. "Two in the facility you were kept in yes, but there were several other WICKED bases, each with their own variations of the Mazes you watched."

Ruth scanned the faces, so many she didn't recognise, and all of them had been through WICKED's treatment? How did she not know this? She would've thought Dr Buren would have mentioned it during one of their many conversations. Her eyes widened as she saw Newt, grinning at one of the other Gladers.

"Try and eat something." Janson told her. "I'll leave you to it." He walked away, leaving her there, gawking like an idiot. Thomas who was sitting on the other side of Newt, glanced up and caught her eye. He nudged Newt, and his gaze followed where Thomas was motioning. Newt's smile faded as he peered at her curiously.

Ruth clamped her jaw shut, biting at the inside of her cheek. Her eyes glued themselves to the floor and she headed to the back of the room, where the food was being served. She could still feel their eyes on the back of her neck. There wasn't much food left, but Ruth wasn't that hungry anyway. Taking a bread bun and cup of water, she turned to find somewhere to sit.

A sort of déjà vu overcame her. She'd eaten in a setting like this so many times, only she'd always had somewhere to sit, someone to sit _with_. First Beth, then Thomas, Newt and the others. Spotting a vacant seat at the end of a table, Ruth shuffled towards it, dropping down onto the bench. Ripping off a chunk of the bread, Ruth chewed it mechanically. It wasn't soft, but it wasn't too tough either, although its bland flavour didn't make Ruth crave the next bite. She couldn't resist a quick look at Newt, and she saw that the group were no longer watching her. As relieving as that was, it stung slightly, knowing that she was so insignificant that she no longer warranted their attention.

She took a gulp of the water to wash the bread down, only to realise just how thirsty she was. Finishing the cup, she noticed someone walking past the rows of tables to her end of the hall.

Aris. He was staring right at her. Ruth's heart leapt. He _recognised_ her. A smile grew on her lips and she leapt up.

"Aris-" Her head whipped to the side as his fist hit her cheek. The noise in the hall stopped dead. Everyone turned to look at the commotion. Fingers gingerly tracing her cheek, Ruth hissed. He'd… he'd _punched_ her? She gaped at Aris, wondering what the hell he was doing.

"That's for Rachel." He spat. "You murderer." He spun on his heels and stormed from the hall. A group stood up and followed Aris. Ruth realised it was Group B. Blood drained from her face as she pieced it together. They thought she was Beth. They hated her. Ruth had believed the blank look Newt gave her was bad, but having her friends look at her with pure loathing was agonising. Not only that, but they truly believed that it was Beth who killed Rachel. They didn't know that WICKED had been controlling her.

Everyone was still staring at her, including Newt and Thomas, Ruth could feel her eyes beginning to prick in shame. If they really didn't remember her, at least she could've started over again with them, but now… after Aris's outburst, there's no way they would relax around her. What a great first impression.

Cradling her cheek, she quickly strode from the hall, and only when she was out of sight did she break into a run. As she travelled along the tunnels, she realised she had no clue where she was going. Janson hadn't told her where she was staying, or maybe he had and she wasn't paying attention. Nevertheless, she was completely clueless as to where she should go.

 _Murderer_.

Aris was wrong about Beth, but not about her. She was the reason all those Gladers suffered or were killed in the Maze, all because she refused to give away Dr Buren. And _Chuck_ , innocent little Chuck. The Gladers loved him so much, if they knew that he died because of _her,_ there's no way they would forgive her.

Even Beth was dead because of her. Ruth had killed her own sister. Her heart squeezed and Ruth collapsed against a wall, pushing her forehead against the brick. She was dead. She'd never see her again. When was the last time she'd even seen Beth, _actually_ seen her, face to face? Ruth cast her mind back and remembered the day she was promoted to an elite. Dr Leavitt had come and collected her from the cafeteria. She'd been sitting with Beth, she couldn't even recall what they'd been talking about. Then Dr Leavitt came for her and Ruth remembered looking to Beth, wondering what was going on and what she should do. Beth had just nodded. Silent encouragement, giving Ruth the bravery she'd needed in that moment.

Because Ruth hadn't been brave. She was scared. The whole time she was so scared, so overwhelmed by everything going on. Yet Beth had been brave. Beth knew that if Ruth was required by WICKED personnel then she ought to go with them. Then WICKED's proposal, having Ruth help 'save humanity' as they'd phrased it, seemed so exciting to Ruth. She was so surprised that it was her they had chosen, and not Beth, that she felt privileged. Helping save humanity was the right thing to do and Beth always did the right thing. She had wanted to make Beth _proud._

But that wasn't what Beth would have done. She would've asked the right questions, would've only accepted if they'd agreed to let her see Ruth. If they hadn't then Beth would've told them to go to hell.

If only Beth had begged her not to go or had demanded that she go along with Ruth. If only Ruth had seen her scared, then maybe Ruth would have put up a fight and not left her side. But there was no way either of them could have known. Now Beth was dead, and nothing Ruth said or did would ever change that.

"Hey," Ruth heard a voice mumble, "are you okay?" Dragging her head away from the wall Ruth was surprised to see Thomas standing there awkwardly. She almost smiled; he didn't know how to comfort people. He hadn't been great at it before he went into the Maze either, but he was still there whenever Ruth had been upset, which was all she needed. For some reason, he was there now. Ruth opened her mouth to speak when Thomas spoke up again. "You're right, stupid question, sorry." He considered her face. "You should get that looked at you know."

"It's fine." Ruth insisted, overly wary of every word coming out of her mouth, not wanting to mess this up.

"You're only saying that because you haven't seen it." Thomas remarked. "That guy really did a number on you."

"I don't know where the err- I can't um-" Ruth cursed herself, her nerves were getting the better of her. "I don't know where to go."

"Yeah I still don't know my way around either," Thomas comforted, "I only remember where the hospital is because it's on the way to my room."

"I should probably find out where I'm staying." Ruth admitted sheepishly.

"They didn't tell you?" Ruth shook her head at Thomas's question. "Well the guys at the hospital should be able to tell you anyway. Come on, I'll take you." Ruth blinked at him, dazed.

"Why?"

"Why what?" Thomas's brows furrowed.

"Why are you… you don't know me."

"Your point?"

"You saw what happened back there, you heard what he called me." Why was she reminding Thomas about that? Did she _want_ him to hate her?

"I did." He admitted. "Doesn't mean I believe him though. Come on, let's go." He walked away from her, not waiting for her protests. Ruth shook herself from her trance and went after him. She couldn't explain his peculiar behaviour, but that didn't mean she was going to push him away. No, she was overcome with gratitude that Thomas had come looking for her.

Thomas wasn't exactly sure what he was thinking, chasing after that girl and now leading her to the hospital, but he was curious, and he wanted to investigate. They arrived at the hospital and a man looking to be in his late fifties hurried towards them. Thomas saw the girl give the man a sheepish look, seeming to recognise him.

"Ruth!" He exclaimed and Thomas took a mental note of her name. "You've been gone not even an hour and already you've got yourself into trouble." The man fussed, inspecting the wounded cheek that was beginning to swell. "We'll get some ice on that." The doctor looked at Thomas then, as if only just realising he was there. "Did you do this?"

"N-no." Thomas shook his head vigorously. "I was just showing her the way."

"Ah, I see. Thank you then. You can go back now." The man was friendly enough, but it was clear that he didn't want Thomas lingering. He nodded, stepping back.

"See you later, Ruth." He smiled, listening to how her name sounded on his lips.

"Bye." Ruth returned the gesture. She watched as he turned to leave. "Thomas," he twisted back around, brows raised. "Thank you." Ruth knew that he understood she was grateful for more than just directions. Thomas's mouth tugged into another smile, only there was something different to this one, a strange glint in Thomas's eyes. Ruth couldn't decipher what it was, and as Thomas left the hospital, the puzzle was swept from her mind.

* * *

When dinner rolled around, Ruth was nowhere to be seen. Thomas sighed, slowing chewing his food.

"There he is." Winston cracked a smile as Minho dropped his tray on the table. "Where the shuck have you been?" Minho had been gone for hours, he hadn't been in the barrack when Thomas had gotten back from the hospital. No one had asked where Thomas disappeared off to, he wasn't with Ruth long enough for anyone to wonder where he was.

"I made some friends, got some info on that klunk that went down earlier." Everyone looked to Minho at that.

"And?" Frypan prompted.

"They'd gotten out the Maze," he began his account of the tale. "They were waiting by the Griever hatch for everyone to get through, and then this girl Rachel gets there. Apparently, she was like the Thomas of our Maze, and the shank that did the punching was their version of Teresa."

Thomas glanced across the table at Teresa to see her staring back. Had they known this pair before their memories were wiped? Did they work together to help WICKED?

"So what happened?" Newt asked.

"That girl Beth, well," Minho hesitated, sneaking a sheepish look at Thomas. "She was their version of Gally. She went berserk and attacked Rachel, killed her. Took someone stabbing Beth to get her to stop, thought she was dead but obviously not."

"I knew she was a nutcase." Frypan tutted.

"I think that was obvious from the way she jumped at Newt." Minho said before taking a large bite of chicken.

"Thomas," Teresa spoke softly, breaking Thomas from his daze. He had grown very still, and Teresa was worried that it was because of Minho mentioning Gally. It was too soon. It was clear Thomas was still distraught over Chuck. They all were.

"You okay?" Newt nudged him.

"Um," Thomas's face crumpled in concentration, debating whether to say something. "That girl, the one who got punched, I don't think she did it."

"What'd you mean, Tommy?" Newt asked.

"I'm saying that, that girl isn't who people think she is. She's… not Beth. I was with her earlier, I showed her where the hospital was and when we got there the doctor called her _Ruth._ Not Beth."

"Ruth," Newt hummed.

"Yes, and she knew my name. When I was leaving, she said my name, only I hadn't told her it."

"She knew Newt's name too," Minho reminded him, "What's your point?"

"She knew us before the Maze." Thomas theorised. " _But_ she couldn't have gone into the other Maze, because then how would she remember us?"

"WICKED could've given her her memories back." Winston suggested.

"I don't think so." Thomas shook his head, having already considered this.

"You're saying she worked for WICKED, like us?" Teresa caught on. Thomas nodded.

"Not like you," Minho corrected, scowling. "She never got put in the Maze, she stayed on WICKED's good side the whole time. That makes her a lot worse than either of you."

"Minho, we all saw her when we got out." They all thought back to the ill, manic girl they had seen. "You think that's what being on WICKED's good side looks like?" Thomas let out a long breath. "I think I remember her. When I stung myself with the Griever serum, and I remembered things about the Maze, how we ended up there, I remembered her too. Not much, just the odd flash, but I'm sure it was her."

"So what do you want us to do, Thomas?" Minho retorted. "Let's say you're right, she's just some normal, albeit troubled, girl that we used to know. She might know everything about us, but we've got no shuckin' clue who she is. We don't remember her. At all. Besides, everyone here thinks she's some crazy psycho, we can't go getting associated with that."

"She's our _friend_." Thomas argued.

"Tommy, Minho's right." Thomas couldn't believe what Newt was saying. "We can't just act like we're best mates with her. We don't know her. It might not be fair but that's how it is. I'm not saying we should just leave her to the sharks, but we have to realise that we risk getting on the wrong side of what's-his-face."

"Aris." Minho piped in.

"Aris." Newt repeated to Thomas. "He's definitely not the toughest shank here, not by a long shot, but if everyone believes _him_ … we can't go isolating ourselves like that, not when we've only just gotten out the Maze."

"What are we supposed to do then?"

"Speak to Aris," Newt told him. "To him and the others from his Maze. If you can convince them, then the whole problem goes away."

"Why did she call out to Newt though?" Teresa mused, catching everyone's attention. "If she did work for WICKED then she would have spent a lot more time with me and Thomas than everyone else. So why was it Newt she was bothered about?"

"I mean, there _is_ someone who could answer that for us." Frypan said, grinning at Thomas. "Looks like _someone_ will have to ask Beth, or Ruth, or whatever or her name really is."

* * *

"Hey," Thomas stopped by Aris's table. Two girls were sat with him, one older with dark hair, and a blonde who looked around Chuck's age. Thomas cut his thoughts off before they could linger on his innocent friend. "Am I okay to sit here?" The trio peered at him curiously.

"Sure." Aris nodded, exchanging glances with his friends.

"Thanks," Thomas sat beside him. "I'm Thomas."

"Aris," the boy introduced himself. "This is Miyoko and Ros."

"How come you aren't sitting with your friends?" Thomas was slightly taken aback by Miyoko's upfront question.

"I wanted to talk to you, about that girl you hit yesterday."

"Jesus." Aris groaned.

"Will people ever shut up about that?" Miyoko snapped. "We don't want to retell the whole story to every curious idiot. Go ask someone else we've already told."

"No, I don't mean- sorry I know you must be sick of telling everyone. My friend, Chuck," Thomas cleared his throat. "He was killed too, we'd just gotten out the Maze and erm- yeah." He paused, trying to compose himself. "So I get what you're going through."

"I'm sorry." Ros said, barely louder than a whisper. Thomas shot her a grateful smile.

"I'm not here to ask about what that girl did to your friend. I'm…" Thomas sighed. "I need you to hear me out, okay?" After a moment's hesitation, the three nodded.

"I don't think that girl was Beth." Thomas began. "I don't know how any of this came about but I believe she's called Ruth, and she never went into the Maze."

"And we're supposed to believe you because?" Miyoko narrowed her eyes.

"When we were rescued from our Maze, we saw her. She called out for one of my friends, and yesterday I spoke to her and she already knew my name. Which means she never had her memories taken, because she never went into the Maze."

"Unless WICKED gave them back to her after they'd healed her." Aris frowned.

"Or she went into the Maze with her memories." Miyoko hissed.

"Look, I know how hard this is for you. I'd be the same if someone told me that the guy that killed Chuck _wasn't_ that guy… but you can't _hate_ someone that's innocent." Thomas implored. "Please, just talk to her. Then if you still think that she's Beth, you can go on hating her."

"No." Miyoko growled. "No way."

"There's nothing she could say to convince us. There's no point." Aris shrugged. All of a sudden, Ros spoke up.

"I want to talk to her." Aris and Miyoko looked to Ros, seeing the steely look in her eyes. She wasn't asking for permission. Thomas wondered why this small girl was so determined, and why pity flashed across her friends' faces. At last, Aris sighed.

"Fine." Aris said. "But if she is Beth, she can't be one of us again. I mean it Ros, not after what she did to Rachel."

Ros chewed on her lip, considering this. "Okay."

Thomas eyed the scene, the weight in his chest lifting. He had done it.

"Thanks," he said, standing up. "You won't regret it."

"Yeah, yeah. Sure, Thomas." Thomas paused at Aris's expression. He willed himself to remember him. Nothing. Maybe they hadn't ever met after all. "What is it?" Aris asked, seeing the curious look in Thomas's eyes.

"You and Rachel were elites, right?" He'd recalled the word from the hazy memories that he'd regained.

"Elites?" Aris's brow arched.

"You and Rachel were… different to everyone else in the Maze. You used to work for WICKED before the Maze?"

"I think so," Aris admitted. "That's why Beth… that's why Rachel's dead."

"I was the last guy to go into our Maze." He glanced to the other table to catch Teresa looking over at them. She quickly averted her gaze. "Teresa was the only girl." He looked back to Aris. "We worked for WICKED too, and I think that maybe we were at the same compound."

Aris's mouth opened slightly as he realised what Thomas was saying. His eyes scanned Thomas, asking himself if he recognised the boy in front of him. Disappointed, he shook his head. "I- I don't remember. Sorry." Thomas gave him a half smile.

"Worth a shot." He shrugged. "See you later. Thanks again." With that, Thomas strode back to his table. His friends all looked at him as he sat by Teresa.

"How'd it go?" Frypan asked.

"They said they'd speak to her." Thomas smiled. The others cheered at that before returning to their conversations. Feeling Teresa watching him, Thomas faced her.

"It's so frustrating." She whispered. Thomas didn't need to hear anything else to know what she referred to. Since the Maze, their telepathy had stopped. They figured that their rescuers had done something to the implants in their heads, probably to prevent WICKED from tracking them, but it meant that they were no longer able to communicate in the way they once could.

"We could ask, see if they could give it back to us?" Teresa shot him a look at his suggestion.

"As if." She huffed. "It's not that we need it anyway, it'll just take some getting used to."

"Yeah, I know." Thomas said glancing around. Ruth hadn't showed up today either. Was she still in the hospital? Aris's punch hadn't been that bad. Although, it was maybe the fear of it happening again that kept her away. Sympathy spiked through him. Was she starving in her room because she was too afraid to come and eat?

Thomas didn't understand why he felt so compelled to comfort her. Newt and the others were right, even though he knew that he used to know her, he didn't know her now. She was a stranger. Yet he couldn't bring himself to accept that. Even if Aris and the others still believed it was her that killed Rachel, even if his friends didn't want anything to do with her, he wouldn't leave her. She'd been through hell, they all had. The only thing that kept them all going was having each other, having someone who understood what you'd gone through. Ruth didn't have that. She was all alone, probably had been the whole time they were in the Maze. When they were in blissful ignorance, enjoying each other's company, she'd been trapped, knowing the truth.

WICKED was a thing of the past. He'd be damned if he let the corporation hang over them for the rest of their lives. Ruth wouldn't be alone anymore. If no one else, she'd have Thomas. He'd make sure of it.


	14. Chapter 13

**A/N: Thanks everyone for reading, love your reviews! This chapter's got more on Ruth's time in the base. Next chapter will be where we diverge more from the book and film plots ;)**

Ruth would have happily hidden away in her room for all eternity. The dread of seeing Group B again was enough to make her appetite vanish. She barely slept though she wanted to desperately. The thought of sinking into blissful oblivion, even if it was only temporary, was undeniably tempting. Yet, she couldn't bring her mind to shut up. Faces, voices, memories. They filled her head through the night. When she could no longer string together lucid thoughts, her body instead focused on one thing. The pain. The constant ache in her chest. It burrowed deeper with every second, yet it still hadn't reached the other side.

She didn't know what she thought would happen. Part of her hoped she could avoid the cafeteria forever. Knowing what had happened last time, perhaps she wouldn't be forced to go again. Maybe someone would bring food to her room or she could go and eat after the cafeteria had emptied. Much to her dismay, her stubbornness wasn't going to be tolerated. To the Right Arm, everyone was the same. Just a lot of kids who'd been through a hell of a lot, but that was over now. As far as the Right Arm were concerned, WICKED was a thing of the past. Now the problem everyone faced was survival. They had a lot more to worry about than the woes of each and every person they'd saved. So, if you wanted to eat, you ate _with_ everyone else at the same _time_ as everyone else, and that was that.

She'd been placed in a room with about ten other girls, none of whom she'd recognised. Part of her had wanted to introduce herself, to grasp this opportunity for a fresh start, but unfortunately, _they_ already knew _her_. All of them had witnessed the scene with Aris. None of them spoke to her; they watched her with wary eyes as they whispered to each other. They would go for dinner and leave Ruth in the silence of the barrack. Today however, once everyone had shuffled out the door, a man walked in.

He didn't give his name, only told her that she had to join the others. His tone was firm- it wasn't a request. Ruth couldn't think of anything worse, the whole experience would be sheer hell. However, Ruth didn't want to be any more of a burden than she already was. Stomping her feet and making a fuss… what was the point? She deserved the way the others treated her, so she would just have to deal with it.

Surprise flitted across the man's face at how easily she complied. He'd clearly been expecting her to put up more of a fight. He followed closely behind her all the way to the hall, thinking she was going to try something. Did she really seem that unstable? As they neared the hall, Ruth's heartbeat thudded louder in her ears and she figured the man was probably right to be cautious. She needed to run back to her room, to hide away. If Beth were with her now…

 _It's okay Ruth,_ she'd say, taking her hand. _Anyone tries anything funny, I'll take care of them._

 _But you can't_ , Ruth cried to the voice in her head. _You're not here._

 _They don't know that_.

Something clicked at that moment. As if Ruth had been falling down an endless tunnel and had finally found something to grip onto. Everyone thought she was Beth. Beth who had always been the stronger of the pair. They didn't know Ruth, didn't even know she existed. As far as everyone else was concerned, she _was_ Beth. Which meant that Ruth _could_ be Beth. The part of her that loved Beth ferociously craved to connect to the girl she could never see again. But this didn't mean that Beth was lost. Ruth could keep her alive. To stop cowering in shame and wallowing in guilt, to be brave and strong and _good_. That is how Beth would want her to be. That is how Beth would be. It was the least she could do, to keep Beth alive, not just in memories that she would tell people years from now, but to show people who she was, and why they were all wrong about her.

The babble of voices fell quiet as Ruth was spotted. Before she could shrink back into her shell, Ruth sucked in a breath and headed towards the food at the back of the hall. Filling her tray, she sat in the nearest empty seat, trying not to care when the group sitting next to her shifted further down the table. Gradually, the murmur of voices resumed, until eventually Ruth was all but forgotten.

Ruth was shocked when two people sat opposite her. Were they being nice or did they just not care about what anyone was saying about her? Unable to resist, she glanced up from her tray to see who the brave individuals were. Instantly Ruth shrunk in on herself when she saw Aris and Ros in front of her. Hurt and fury churned in Aris's eyes and Ruth felt like she was being punched all over again. Ros however, she looked at Ruth calmly, as if she had been waiting for this moment for so long and was finally ready for it to happen.

"I'm Ros," the blonde introduced. After a beat of silence, she nudged the boy beside her.

"She knows who we are, Ros." He argued quietly. The tiny blonde glared at that and immediately Aris caved and looked to Ruth. "I'm Aris."

Ruth blinked, confused. Why were they… Aris hated her, Ros _should_ hate her. Although, now that Ruth thought about it, Ros and Beth were close friends in the Maze, the young girl would know that Beth was incapable of murder. Perhaps she wanted to get to the bottom of the mystery, though that didn't mean she would leap to the conclusion that Beth didn't know who they were. Did she think that WICKED wiped Beth's memory? Put alternate memories in their place to make her do the awful thing she did? Ruth didn't know how to reply. If she told them her name, how would they react? There was no reason for them to think Beth had a twin, would they just believe she was lying?

"Ruth." She said at last, figuring she had nothing to lose. Ros looked to Aris, raising her brows as if to say 'I told you so'. "Beth was my sister." She added. Her eyes suddenly burned as the weight of the word 'was' hit her. She hadn't said it aloud before, and it was like the pain was hitting her anew all over again. "WICKED made her do it." She pushed herself to say, wringing her hands together in her lap. "It wasn't her. She didn't want to. But they made her. And to save Rachel, you didn't just kill the monster they'd made, but you killed her too." She took a deep breath, trying to clear the thickness in her voice. She shook her head. "I'm sorry."

Abandoning her tray, Ruth fled the cafeteria without so much as a glance at Aris and Ros's expressions. She couldn't bring herself to talk about it. If they didn't believe her then so be it, that was their problem.

Observing the scene from across the hall, Thomas cursed under his breath.

"What is it?" Newt asked from beside him.

"I don't think the plan went particularly well." Thomas explained, getting to his feet.

"You can't keep running after her Thomas." Minho remarked. "She's not your responsibility."

"And I'm not yours," he retorted. "So stop worrying about me."

* * *

The Right Arm were a big fan of regular check-ups. Not everyone who had been rescued was Immune, although none of the candidates knew this yet, and the Right Arm wanted to ensure that there hadn't been a breach of the Flare. Ruth had asked during one of her medicals why she was being tested if she was in fact Immune. Myers had explained it was good to check on the general health of everyone, they didn't know if another virus could have developed and it was better to be safe than sorry. Besides, it would seem a little suspicious if only certain candidates had health checks. The Right Arm knew who was and wasn't Immune since they had WICKED's files, but they chose not to disclose this information to anyone. Ruth didn't understand why it was being kept from people that they weren't Immune.

"Think about it," Myers had said. "How would you react if you were told you weren't Immune? People can lash out when they're frightened, when their survival is at stake. You kids have only just gotten away from WICKED, we don't want to dump more bad news onto you so soon."

"You have to tell them at some point though." Ruth reasoned, her mind on Newt. Part of her was glad she didn't speak to him, it meant she could keep the guilt at bay. The knowledge of his lack of Immunity weighed heavily in her mind whenever she _looked_ at him, never mind having to engage in a casual conversation, as if they had all the time in the world.

"And we will, if there becomes a risk of infection, but since we don't have any Cranks running around I'd say the risk of infection is pretty damn low."

Today, Ruth had just completed one of her medicals and she hopped off the bed, nodding to Myers with a smile. She was nearing the hospital exit when a voice shouted.

"Ruth!" Turning around, Ruth was surprised to seeing Ros scampering after her. The girl stopped when she reached Ruth. "Can we talk?"

"Sure." Ruth replied softly trying to hide her shock, and the pair strolled from the hospital.

"I'm sorry." Ros began. "About all of it. About Beth, about how you've been treated since you got out of the Maze, especially about Aris hitting you. You didn't deserve any of it." Ruth was taken aback by how mature Ros sounded, she was still so young, Ruth guessed about twelve. She remembered how terrified Ros had been when escaping the Maze. How long ago had that been? Nearly three weeks? Yet that trembling girl bared no resemblance to the calm and determined one beside Ruth now.

"You believe me then? That I'm not…"

"Beth? No, you're not her. I don't know how much you know, but I was friends with Beth in the Maze." Her eyes glazed over in thought for a moment. "Real good friends. We were in a trio, and we were so happy." She shook herself from her thoughts, smiling sadly at Ruth. "I'd like to think I can tell when someone is or isn't my best friend."

"Thank you." Was all Ruth could say and she knew Ros understood how thankful she was. She'd been over the moon when Thomas had continued talking to her. Even idle chit chat was something she had missed while everyone was in the Maze. He hadn't asked her anything about her past, about how she knew him, and she appreciated it more than he realised. She didn't want to keep living in her memories, that's all she could do when she had been alone, and what she craved more than anything was company. Now that Ros, someone who had been so close to Beth, said that she believed her, it made her heart pang with gratitude.

They reached the cafeteria for lunch and Ruth stilled as she eyed her usual seat in the back corner.

"Don't even think about it." Ros tugged on her arm. "You're sitting with me."

Ruth's heart panged again.

They arrived at the table with the others from Group B. Aris, Miyoko and three girls Ruth vaguely recognised made a point of not looking at her as she sat down.

"Ignore them." Ros whispered. "They'll come around eventually."

"Hey Ruth, Ros," she looked up to seeing Thomas smiling down at her.

"Hi Thomas." She glanced at the blonde beside her. "You know each other?"

"He's the one that told us to hear you out in the first place." Ros explained. "A damn good effort I'd say."

Ruth raised a brow at Thomas, and he glanced away sheepishly. Thomas was always going out of his way to help her. She really owed him.

"Well don't just stand there," she said. "Sit down, you shank." Thomas grinned at that and sat opposite her and Ros.

Meanwhile, Newt, Winston and Leo broke their stare at Thomas to twist back around and face their table.

"He doesn't give up," Winston said. "You have to give him that at least."

"I don't understand why he trusts her." Minho commented. "All he remembers is that she worked for WICKED and _didn't_ get put in the Maze. Maybe she ratted him and Teresa out and was the reason they got sent in there."

"When we got out the Maze she didn't exactly look like she had been having a great time. If she was completely with WICKED, she wouldn't have looked like that." Newt answered, remembering what Thomas had said. Newt couldn't explain why, but he was also intrigued by the girl. Unlike Thomas, he had no recollection of her, but he hated this black hole in his memories. A whole part of himself was a secret even to himself, and this Ruth seemed to know what that part was. He itched to turn back around and look at her again, as if it would help his memories return.

"Unless WICKED backstabbed her after she betrayed the two of them." Leo suggested.

"Would you shanks stop talking about me like I'm not here." Teresa growled. "Thomas can do what he wants, alright?"

"Good that." Frypan, Tim and Billy all nodded.

"What do you think, Teresa?" Minho asked her. "Do you trust her?"

"I trust Thomas."

"But not her?" Teresa sighed at that.

"Why does it matter Minho? WICKED is gone. Even if she did work for them, she doesn't anymore."

"Only they're not gone." Leo said, his voice quiet, wavering slightly. "Are they?"

* * *

Ruth was sat crossed legged on her bed, with Thomas hanging upside down off the end. As glad as they were to be free of WICKED, there really wasn't much to do now other than sit around. The other girls in Ruth's barrack mingled amongst themselves. They no longer bristled when Ruth entered the room, and luckily they didn't seem to care when Thomas came to visit.

"Can I ask you something?" Ruth wrung her hands together as Thomas rocked himself upright. "Why do you spend so much time with me?" She cringed. _Well done, Ruth. Way to make him feel wanted._

"You sick of me already?" Thomas teased.

"No, I didn't mean like that." She huffed at her inability to word her question correctly. "What I wanted to ask was, well, you don't know me anywhere near as well as your other friends, so why do you spend more time with me than them?" She winced, still not quite right, but Thomas seemed to understand what she meant as he considered her words for a moment.

"You're right. I've known those guys for as long as I can remember. But beyond that, I knew you too, as did Newt, and I'm guessing the others did too."

Ruth wondered for a second how Thomas knew that Newt had known her. Her heart skipped a beat. Did Newt remember? Suddenly the memory of her calling out Newt's name during the rescue, leaping at him, sprung to mind. The dash of excitement faded as swiftly as it appeared. The way she'd reacted to him, it wasn't hard to work out they'd known each other before the Maze.

"It's not a one-way thing though," Thomas added. "In a way, you don't know us either. The food I used to love, or the music, I've never experienced it. I don't know what I like or don't like, so how could I be exactly the same person I used to be? I'm not, you're not, none of us shanks are. But the fundamentals of a person, the way we think, that can't be changed." Thomas shrugged. "I suppose I wanted you to not feel so isolated that you can't talk to any of us."

"You and Ros are the only ones that actually want to talk to me though." Ruth pointed out, not commenting on his other remark. She'd never thought of it like that. To her, they were still the same people. They had just moved onto the next stage of their lives, albeit involuntarily, and she was still stuck in the past.

"Because the rest of them are being idiots. If you talk to them like you talk to me, they'll come around. Separating yourself from them will only fix this idea they have in their head."

"And what idea would that be?"

"Basically, that you're on WICKED's side. I've told them that's a load of klunk. Even though you didn't go in a Maze, I'm sure they put you through a different kind of hell."

"You really want me to talk to them?" Ruth recognised that Thomas wanted to hang out with the other Gladers, he was just too stubborn to do so without her coming along.

"You want to talk to them too, you just get stuck in your head and chicken out."

"They don't like me!"

"As long as you don't work for WICKED, you're good." He cracked a grin. "Oh wait…" Ruth rolled forward and shoved him backwards, laughing as he tumbled off the bed.

"You piece of klunk."

* * *

Ruth thought she was okay, that as much as she wished for more, she had accepted her current relationship with Newt. Current relationship being that she loved him and he had no idea, nor did he remember that he once felt the same. What else was she supposed to do? She couldn't change what they'd been through.

However, as Thomas led her to his table and her eyes landed on Newt, she was overcome by fear. Her feet begged to move closer and run away at the same time. She didn't want to look in his eyes. Those unforgettable brown eyes that once looked at her with so much warmth.

Someone on the table noticed her walking towards them and alerted the others. They glanced up at her, peering curiously. She felt Newt's gaze hit her like a train and her own thudded to the floor. Thomas greeted them as the pair sat down, all the while Ruth chanted to herself not to look at Newt, to resist the temptation.

"Guys this is Ruth," he introduced. "Ruth, this is Teresa." Ruth looked up as Thomas began to point around the table, glad to focus on someone other than Newt. Thomas had acknowledged beforehand that she might already know everyone's names, but he figured the best way to approach the situation was to start from scratch. "Minho, Frypan, Billy, Newt…"

Thomas continued listing their names, but this didn't reach Ruth's ears. She'd caved and peeked a glance at Newt, only to have the oxygen sucked from her lungs as their eyes met. She had expected a hollow chasm, that all she would see would be brown eyes looking at a stranger. Yet, she was surprised by what she found.

No distrust. No frostiness. Just intrigue, and warmth.

It was friendly, polite. The kind of warmth he greeted all the Greenies with. She was glad of it, that he didn't just look at her blankly like the others, but still, it was not the same warmth that had blazed into a fire the last time he'd seen her, when they were dragged apart before the Maze began.

 _"Hey, it'll be okay." His arms tightened around her. "They'll have their cure soon and this will all be over. I'll be able to see you and Lizzy again."_

 _Ruth's eyes pricked. She had to tell him. She had to say something before he disappeared. Before he forgot her. She pulled back, an urgent look in her eyes._

 _"You have to listen to me." She hurried. "They're going to-"_

 _Oh no._

 _"They're going-" Same thing again. The words wouldn't come out. It was like her throat was blocked, or her tongue wouldn't work. Something was stopping her from saying it. She couldn't warn him._

 _A hand clamped down on her shoulder. "Come on. They'll be going in soon." One of the security guards said gruffly._

 _"Just give me a minute." She blurted, her eyes not leaving Newt's face. He was evidently confused and desperate to hear the end of her sentence._

 _"You've had long enough." The guard said, tugging at her arm._

 _"Newt." She gripped his hand. She had to tell him- he deserved to know. "They haven't told you."_

 _"Told me what?" He asked as her hand was pulled from his. Ruth tried to shove the man away, but another guard had come over to help. "Told me what!" Newt yelled._

 _Ruth didn't have time to answer, she was being dragged away. She slammed her shoes down but the floor was too slippery to get any grip._

 _Medical personnel grabbed Newt, stopping him from chasing after her. "Ruth!"_

 _"Newt!" Ruth screamed, trying to yank her arms free. The security guards' bruising grips were too strong, their nails digging into her skin. "I'm sorry! I didn't know! I didn't know!"_

 _Newt's face disappeared as she was hauled around the corner. His expression ingrained into her mind. Confusion, panic, despair… he knew something was wrong, but he didn't know_ what _. Within the hour, his mind would be wiped, and he'd never know about FIRE. Ruth hadn't changed a thing._

She snapped from her daze.

The group had returned to their previous conversations, multiple occurring at once. She deflated slightly, seeing Newt completely unaffected by the meeting of their gazes. He was talking to Leo, Frypan and Winston about where the Right Arm would eventually move them. Suggestions included uninhabited tropical islands and stealing an abandoned spaceship to travel to the moon. Thomas and Teresa were whispering between them about who knows what.

Minho, however, was watching her. His eyebrows knotted together as he puzzled over something. His eyes flickered to Newt, then back to her and the corner of his mouth curled up into a smirk. Ruth wasn't sure how much he had worked out, but she felt herself blushing. As if her feelings for Newt were an embarrassing thing that should be kept secret. It was bizarre, being back in the position of the younger her. The one that had a crush on Newt and was terrified to act on it.

She remembered thinking all that time ago that maybe, just maybe, he had felt the same. For one long moment, she'd prepare herself to make the first move. To take his hand and see what happened. To find the words to tell him how she felt. Then, right at the last second, the rational part of her brain would overtake the hopeful part. He was being sweet to her because he was lovely to everyone. He didn't treat her any differently, he didn't have feelings for her. Why would he? He was far too good for her.

Then he had kissed her, and her little heart had nearly imploded. She'd never felt so euphoric.

Then everything that had happened, happened. She'd felt complete bliss and it had been snatched away from her. It wasn't as though Newt had made the conscious decision to no longer feel that way for her. He hadn't chosen to forget, which only made it more painful. She couldn't force this new Newt to feel things, and she didn't want to tell him about what they had once been. It would only make him feel awkward around her, avoid her even, as he wouldn't want to lead her on, and was the one thing that could make this situation worse.

Over the next few days, Ruth was surprised that Minho made the most effort to speak to her. It was in his nature to be bubbly and friendly, but Ruth also knew that he could really hold a grudge. Understandably, he was still mad at WICKED, only he needed someone to be angry at, someone to blame. Unlucky for Ruth, she was a prime candidate. She'd asked Thomas about it and he was just as surprised by Minho's recent friendliness. Apparently, he had been the most vocal about his distrust whenever Thomas had mentioned her. Despite her suspicions, Ruth was glad of Minho's behaviour. It seemed that the others had acknowledged his shift and followed suit, meaning that gradually, everyone relaxed around her. They didn't bristle when she sat at the table, didn't stare her down if she ever piped up in a conversation.

One day, Ruth was wedged between Minho and Newt at the table, and her heart was pounding erratically as she willed her brain to focus. She'd always avoided sitting next to Newt for this exact reason. Whatever it was that Minho had worked out, he hadn't told the others. She knew this because he was the only one that had ever given her any sort of smirk, and Newt was still as unaffected by her presence as he had been that first day she sat with them. Today, however, Minho had hollered at her, smacking the seat he'd saved between him and Newt. She wanted to strangle Minho, the cheeky git.

She was overly aware of Newt's shoulder brushing against hers and it took everything not to lean in closer. Everything Minho said washed over her- she just watched his expression, so she knew when to nod or laugh. When Newt spoke it was entirely different problem. She heard every word, the amusing way in which he pronounced each of them. He was so close, it was impossible to think straight. It was so tempting to relax entirely into the conversation, but she was worried about seeming too familiar. She didn't want to scare him off.

When at last it was time to return to their rooms, Ruth arched a brow when Minho said he'd catch up with the others and walked along with her. The others also looked at each other quizzically before shrugging and turning off down the corridor.

"You know Ruth, when Thomas started banging on about how we used to know you and how we all needed to give you a chance, I was having none of it."

"He did mention that." Ruth said, wondering what he was getting at.

"I had no reason to trust you and every reason not to." Minho reasoned. "But then I saw the way you looked at Newt and it just clicked. It should have been obvious from the way you acted when we were rescued from WICKED, but at the time it just seemed like an impossible thing. Knowing that we all knew each other before the Maze, and we can't remember it at all, seemed impossible enough. Never mind that shank having a, well," He gestured to her. "Whatever you called yourselves.

"This didn't immediately make me like you though. Just because you liked each other, didn't mean you were on the right side. It made me hate you a little less, but I still didn't like you." Although Ruth expected it, his use of the word _hate_ still stung. "So I told myself I'd do a little digging. I had to figure out what you wanted before you risked dragging Newt into a load of nonsense the shank could do without."

"Honestly, I don't know how the others haven't caught on, I catch you sneaking a look at him every chance you get. Anyway, I started to think about what could have possibly been going on when we were in the Maze. Did you help WICKED torture us straight away? Or did you put up any sort of fight before caving? What exactly was it that you would have helped with? Then I remembered the beetle blades." Ruth's interest was piqued at this. "There was this one beetle blade, it would follow Newt around all the time. There's no way the little critter was just doing that because it had been programmed to do so. Why follow one Glader around all the time? It would even crawl onto his hand or up his arm and sit on his shoulder. No, there was definitely someone controlling that thing. I didn't know why, but that someone was looking out for him."

Minho's voice softened, cracking slightly.

"The day Newt jumped… no one was with him. No one would have found him for hours. But Alby said that one of the beetle blades came up to him, and it was like it was trying to tell him something, so he followed it. Then he found Newt, and the beetle blade crawled away and never came near Newt again. The person controlling that beetle blade had vanished, and I have a feeling it was against their will. That someone had refused to play any part in WICKED's games, they had looked out for Newt every step of the way and one day they crossed the line and WICKED punished them for it."

Ruth stopped at they reached the door to her barrack and she turned to face Minho. Relief filled her, knowing that Minho knew who she was, even if he didn't remember her. He grinned, clapping a hand on her shoulder.

"It's good to finally meet you, Mini Shank."


End file.
